V06 - Prisoners and Pawns

by Howard Weinstein

  "He's seen the light," Chris said sardonically.

  Alex tried an intimidating glare, but it didn't work. "All I want to do now is get the hell away from here."

  Chris chuckled. "Get outa here? After what you offered Lydia?"

  "Sure, why not?" Alex's back was to the windows, and he noticed Chris looking outside, over Alex's shoulder

  "Did you really think they'd actually let you waltz right through their little lizard fingers?" Chris asked.

  Alex's face reflected sudden dread at Chris's tone. Slowly, he turned to view what Chris was watching, and saw a squad of Visitor shock troopers forming up in the center of town. Lydia came out of her skyfighter to take command from James. The aliens' helmet visors were down to protect their light-sensitive eyes against the morning brightness, and they all carried lethal-looking laser rifles in a ready-to-fire position. They arranged themselves in a flying wedge, with Lydia safe behind the leading center of the V, and turned and marched directly toward O'Toole's place.

  "Oh, hell," Alex croaked in a parched voice.

  Maragato had worked religiously through the night to loosen the ropes binding his wrists and restraining them tightly behind his back. Inwardly, he'd found himself laughing at the humans' assumptions that a being with superior strength could be bound by simple ties. They'd forgotten that his human-appearing skin wasn't prone to injury when placed under stress as their biological epidermal layer was. His was a form of high-strength plastic. It took quite a lot to rip it—direct pressure with sharp points. So he'd twisted against the ropes for hours while the humans slept, and the ropes had worn thin, finally breaking silently. Then he'd reached down and undone the bindings on his legs, using one of his false fingernails like a knife. He had to admit the knots were well tied. But, after replacing the ropes in a loose facsimile of the original knots, he knew he was free to move when the moment was right.

  "Got your speech all rehearsed, Alex?" Chris said mockingly.

  Sweat began beading up on Alex's face. He peeked past the curtains again, hoping the Visitor group had changed direction. It hadn't.

  I should run, Alex thought, plans racing crazily through his brain. Which way to go? Gotta get away from them— goddamn lizards!

  O'Toole and Chris kept watching out the window, and they didn't notice Alex creeping backward away from them, away from what had become a death watch.

  And none of them saw "Maragato," his half-human half-alien face alight with determination, move slowly, silently through the doorway between the back room and front. He took two steps toward them, but Alex spun to flee and ran right into the Visitor. Maragato reacted first, grabbing Alex and hurling him into O'Toole, who'd turned to intercept the unexpectedly free prisoner. The big man fell flat on his back, sliding on the small rug in the center of the room. Alex skidded across the flora; nearly to the front dooi; then lay there, momentarily stunned. Maragato braced himself ''or a lunge at Chris.

  The alien crouched, his leg muscles uncoiled—Chris reached under his jacket, his hand a lightning blur— Maragato in mid-aii; hands shaped into killing claws—a lancing beam of sunlight glinting off the pistol as it flashed forward—finger squeezing the trigger, calm and steady— the gun firing, the puff of smoke, the dull thunder following a split later—

  The hollow-tipped bullet tore into Maragato's chest and the impact slowed his dive and changed his trajectory. He fell to the floor at Chris's feet, clutching his chest, dark blood pulsing out of the wound. His breath came in shallow rasps.

  Eyes darting, Chris measured the scene, but before he could move an explosion from the side of the house threw him forward. He landed on his back, wind knocked out of him, then he rolled painfully onto one elbow.

  At the blast, each of Lydia's phalanx of soldiers dropped to one knee, weapon up and aimed. The explosion came from a garbage can next to O'Toole's establishment, ripping the metal can into shrapnel and sending up a tongue of flame. The fire caught the edge of the porch and crackled hungrily along the painted wood.

  Lydia crouched behind her troopers, sizing up the situation. She guessed this to be another act of sabotage, and there was no way she was going to let it stop her from getting to Alex Kramer, that foolish human who had dared taunt her the night before—

  —-Alex Kramei; who scrambled to his feet the second after the explosion, thanked God for this providential diversion, and scuttled through the front door of the burning house on hands and knees, driving for daylight like a football running back.

  Chris saw him go, but it was too late to do anything except call after him: "No, Alex, you jackass!"

  "Get him—alive!" Lydia snarled.

  The shock troopers broke formation and charged after their quarry. Panic gave Alex the head start he'd prayed for; but it also made his coordination disappear. He slipped, tumbled, and when he turned to face upward, the shadows of six bulky Visitors covered him. They hauled him to his feet as Lydia came over to him.

  Chris saw the Visitors catch Alex. Staying low, he hopped over the very dead Maragato. Smoke blew in through the windows and door, and Chris could hear the staccato crackle of flames as they devoured the side of the house. His eyes teared and he wiped them with the back of one hand, the other hand gripping his gun. He thought he saw O'Toole coming up behind him.

  "C'mon," Chris called back, "we got one chance!"

  Ducking his head for one last breath of clear air, Chris rose up and barreled shoulder first through the large window on the side of the house away from the approaching fire. He somersaulted out, head over heels, and landed with a clumsy roll on the grass outside. It took a moment to still the dizziness in his head and figure out which direction he wanted to go—

  A moment later, out of his sight, the churning flames licked a propane gas tank on the front porch and the house exploded into a fireball that flared high above the town like a miniature atomic burst. Heat blasted out at Chris, sucking the cool air into itself like a living thing pulling in breath.

  He scrabbled to his feet and crashed headlong into the woods, putting as much distance between himself and the inferno as he could. He fell against a sturdy tree trunk, then looked back at the crumbling frame skeleton that had been a house only a minute ago. "O'Toole," he whispered. He shook his head sadly. I liked him, even if he didn't have anything you could drink.

  Then the sounds of footsteps breaking twigs snared his attention and yanked him back to the problem at hand— survival. The sounds meant someone else was in the woods with him.

  His feet barely touching the ground, Alex was dragged away from the house by the shock troopers. He turned to look over his shoulder once. The flames were already curling up to the roof and the walls were caving in. Anyone left inside was dead by now.

  When he turned again, he found himself face to face with Lydia, her mouth set in an ominous expression.

  "Now," she said, "you will tell me what you know of the whereabouts of Michael Donovan and Ham Tyler." Her reptilian tongue flicked out in anger and a threatening hiss came from her throat.

  Soundlessly, Chris hunkered down amid a cluster of bushes. The branches scratched his skin, but he settled in ;md listened. The footsteps came closer. Whoever was producing them seemed unconcerned about being secretive. Then he heard voices—two teenagers by the sound of them.

  "Jesus, Bradley, I told you it was too close to the house. It's gonna burn down the whole town."

  "Better than letting the Visitors have it," Bradley said, belligerence in his voice.

  Chris poised on his feet and waited. Then he peered through the leaves surrounding him until he saw blue jeans and sneakers approaching. When they'd taken three steps past him, he shook loose from the foliage and stood astride the overgrown path. "You fellas do good work, but you need a little polish."

  They froze in place. The stockier one shoved a hand deep into his pants pocket, then turned with studied arrogance. Chris suppressed a grin and took this one to be Bradley.

  "You ready to get blown away, sucke
r?" the kid said sternly.

  His taller, towheaded friend rolled his eyes.

  "No, are you?" Chris responded, drawing his gun.

  "Bradley, cut the crap," the other boy whispered out the side of his mouth. "The gun's real."

  Acceding to the request, Bradley withdrew hand from pocket and shrugged. "You're obviously not a Visitor. Since you got a gun and you're sneaking around in the woods right after O'Toole's house blew up, my guess is you got something to do with the resistance, and with this Donovan and Tyler the lizards want so bad."

  Chris smile admiringly. "Good analysis, kid."

  The blond boy pointed at Chris's neck. "You're also bleeding."

  Chris glanced down. He hadn't thought to check for damage after departing through the window. "Dammit." It wasn't a serious cut, but the oozing blood had soaked his shirt collar, though his jacket had protected him otherwise. "That's what I get for climbing out a window without opening it first."

  "I'm a med tech," the blond kid said. "I can patch you up."

  Chris nodded. "Okay, thanks. And I'd like to get in on your operation, if you don't mind."

  "Who said we need a partner?" Bradley said.

  "Nobody. In fact, I probably couldn't have escaped if you guys hadn't come along with that bomb when you did. I owe you one. But I think we might be able to help each other Besides, you remind me of myself when I was about your age, the way you're blowing things up."

  "Oh? And what did you grow up to be?" the blond boy asked.

  "CIA agent," Chris said modestly.

  The boys' eyes glowed. "Okay," said the stockier boy, "let's quit standing around waiting for the Visitors to find us. We got a lot of work to do. I'm Bradley, and this is Hank."

  Chris extended his hand—without the gun. "Chris Faber Glad to meet you. Lead the way. ..."

  Bradley stepped forward and they headed deeper into the woods.

  Chapter 14

  Annie carefully held the branch away from herself as she stepped along the trail, then just as carefully let it snap back in Ham Tyler's face.

  "You sure have a funny way of showing your gratitude," he said peevishly.

  "Gratitude? For what?"

  "For my coming out with you again this morning to look for your runaway boyfriend."

  She stopped, turned, and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Is that a better way?"

  "Getting there. Hey, let's take a rest stop." He found a grassy spot in the shade of a stand of tall trees and piunked himself down.

  Annie stood over him, shaking her head. "You're gettin' old, Tyler You don't have the same stamina."

  "Yeah, well, it's this cushy life fighting the lizards. Just doesn't keep me in shape the way covert activities for the Company used to."

  She sat cross-legged next to him, her fingers playing on his knee.

  "You don't seem as anxious to find your boyfriend as you were yesterday," he noted.

  "Oh, you know me. I get excited and then I get rational again. I'm sure he's okay. Maybe he just got pissed off at you and decided to head back to town."

  "What do we do, look for him all day?"

  Annie shook her head. "Nope. We'll look a little while longer; then head back to camp. If Donovan and Barry and you can figure out where we go next, then we'll go." She was quiet for a moment. "Hair's gotten a little thinner since last time, Tyler"

  "You said it yourself—I'm getting old, sweetheart. I'm not the only one, though. You've got a few more wrinkles around those baby blues."

  She smiled sardonically. "You're such a charmer."

  He shrugged modestly. "Hey, some things never change. So, tell me, what do you see in this boyfriend of yours?"

  She mulled over the question, then raised an eyebrow. "Less and less, now that I see you again." She gently grabbed his collar; pulled him close, and kissed him.

  He hesitated returning it, and she backed off.

  "Something wrong?" she asked.

  "I'm not sure, Halsey. What if the boyfriend stumbles outa the woods and finds us?"

  "He ran off without me; I don't owe him anything. Y'know, I've wanted to seduce you again for five years. Two years ago, we didn't have the time. But I swore if we ever got together again, nothing was gonna stop me."

  He frowned. "Hey, I thought I seduced you the first time."

  "You also thought it was you who saved my life. For a CIA man, you've got a lousy memory."

  "Ex-CIA," he corrected.

  "Oh, yeah. You know, 1 really thought you'd gone commercial after you beat the Visitors and opened that big-time security company."

  "It was just a phase. I outgrew it."

  "You and your friends were in all the papers. I almost looked you up. I was gonna make fun of you for selling out and going establishment."

  "Well, if that was the only reason you were going to look me up, I'm glad you didn't."

  "I've got another reason now." She closed her arms around his neck. This time there was no hesitation about joining the kiss—or continuing it. After a long time, they broke for a breath. Ham played with her hair, and Annie just smiled. Then she leaned back on the grass and pulled him over on top of her

  He resisted, going down only halfway, then stopping. "Hey, come on. There're bugs all over the place," he complained.

  "You didn't mind making love outdoors in Salvador. And the bugs were a hell of a lot bigger down there."

  "I was younger then—stupider too. Besides, those bugs were so big they could've passed for family."

  "Your family, maybe," she said lightly.

  "You're a real charmer too, Halsey."

  "What can I say? I went to the Ham Tyler School of Etiquette." Propping herself on one elbow, she began unbuttoning Ham's shirt.

  "You're not going to take no for an answei; are you?" he asked, an amused glint in his eye. He ran one hand along her firm body, from .her thigh to the bare skin of her neck.

  "Nope." She reached down to unbuckle his pants. "C'mon, Tyler, be young again."

  "I'm being overwhelmed by superior forces."

  She grinned slyly. "I may be superior but you're not bad, if 1 recall correctly." She pushed him onto his back and rolled on top of him, finishing off his shirt buttons and scraping her fingernails through the hair on his chest.

  They made love softly, quietly, revisiting old feelings under tentative new circumstances. Annie quickened the pace.

  "Hey, slow down, Halsey," Ham whispered as she straddled him.

  She bit his earlobe. "Uh-uhh. I've been patient for five years, Tyler No time for patience now. Besides, we don't have all day."

  "You're a real romantic, kid."

  Her breathing quickened. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't be sittin' up here after all this time, now would I?"

  He gave in to her urgency. "Okay, I'll just enjoy the ride."

  "Shut up, Tyler" She leaned forward and found his mouth with her tongue, her hands stroking his face.

  * * *

  Afterward, they dressed quickly, almost self-consciously. They both had that same thought at the same time, then grinned at each other. Annie came over to him and kissed him on the cheek.

  "Thanks for giving in to superior forces."

  "My pleasure, lady."

  "Mine too. Hey, I guess we'll go a little farther, then head back."

  She led the way to a path that skirted the rim of a ravine. The trail wound its way down by a series of switchbacks, but from here they could survey the entire valley all the way back to Crow's Fork. They traded serious glances when they saw the dark plume of smoke twisting up from town. Annie raised her binoculars.

  "Oh, my God."

  "What is it?"

  "I think it's O'Toole's place—at least it was, by the location. But there's nothing left of it except chaired wood, as far as I can tell."

  "Let me see." He took the binoculars and trained them on the source of the smoke. "You sure that's O'Toole's place?"

  She nodded grimly. He held the binoculars and lowered his sightline
to skim the valley and the trail down below their lookout point. "Hey," he said, "somebody's coming our way."

  "Can you make out who?"

  "Nope. Here, take a look."

  She peered in the direction he was pointing, but all she could see was the upper torso of a person making his way through the tall grass and trees. All she could be sure of was that it was a man—or appeared to be.

  "Maybe it's Alex," she murmured. "We better head down and meet him—whoever it is."

  Ham took his concealed pistol out of its shoulder holster, checked for a full clip, released the safety, and nodded. She took him by the hand and they began the hike down from the rim into the valley. The trail varied in steepness, then leveled to a moderate incline. If their view of the mysterious intruder had been intermittent, it was now totally obscured by the woods. Ham held his gun at the ready.

  "Are you sure he had to come this way?"

  Annie gave a half nod. "Unless he's just wandering, this is the only real trail."

  Then through the foliage, they saw the figure, very near now. Ham held Annie by the arm and they backed off the path behind a large tree trunk, flattening themselves out of sight. The figure was within five yards, and they still couldn't see his face. Ham vaulted out onto the trail, gun aimed dead-on. "Freeze!"

  "Whatever you say," Frank O'Toole answered.

  Annie recognized the voice and jumped into O'Toole's surprised arms. "Frank! You're okay!"

  He pried himself out of her bear hug. "Well, I've been better"

  "You're right," she said as she looked him over He was smudged from head to foot with ashes and soot, his hair and beard were singed, and he smeiled like a char-broiled steak. "We saw the fire from the ridge. Was it your place?" she asked.

  He nodded solemnly. "It's gone, Annie, in several puffs of smoke."

  "What about Maragato and Chris?" Tyler broke in.

  "Maragato's dead."

  "Shit," Ham said.

  "He was also a Visitor in sheep's clothing."

  Ham did a double take. "A friggin' Visitor? Son of a bitch."

  "Chris killed him just before the house exploded. I think Chris got away, but I've no idea where he went to. He's a good man. I'm sure he'll be all right on his own for a bit."