Steele paged through the Drake’s system stats, “They were never here, Chief.”
“Who was never here?”
“Exactly.”
“Wait, exactly what? The Pathfinders, where did they go?”
Steele turned to eye him squarely, “They - were never - here, Chief,” he said slowly. “We were never here. This never happened. We never saw them. They never saw us. Got it?”
“How did you… what did you…”
Jack shook his head, “Never happened, Chief. Nothing took place. Forget about it…”
And with that, the man he knew as Jax Mercury, became the first man Command Master Chief, Daryl Jolly ever really feared.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SANDORRA : POPP GOES THE WEASEL
Easing the Reaper down in a relatively flat, plowed area, facing a gray and blue modular structure with rounded corners and narrow horizontal windows, guided by a man in dark overalls with orange stripes who was doing his very best to communicate with hand signals, made Lisa a little uneasy. “I really don’t think that signal means what he thinks it means…”
The Sergeant was watching the belly camera with one eye and the forward turret camera with the other, “Three feet, Skipper. If that boy flaps any harder, he’s going to take off…”
Feeling the landing feet make contact, Lisa zeroed the antigravity actuator, shutting down the system. While running through the Reaper’s shut-down checklist, she watched the tank crew unload a figure out of the back of the tank parked ahead of her, a third man in a heavy leather jacket taking the figure in his arms, carefully cradling it. “It’s going to be cold out there…”
“Zip up,” commented Draza Mac, referring to her flight jacket. “You go ahead, I’ll give the Raven our sitrep…”
“Don’t forget the transponder serial number you pulled off that T-24,” she reminded him, pulling the canopy release. A blast of cold air swirled into the cockpit and despite her suit, her jacket and her helmet, she shivered. “Damn,” she squeaked. She unbelted, unplugged her umbilicals and activated the ladder before standing on her seat and climbing over the cockpit side.
When she stepped down onto the snow, it squeaked under her flight boots, triggering a flashback of Chicago in the peak of winter. She left her helmet’s visor closed, trotting to the building, pausing to palm the door’s plastic-wrapped control panel, the door sliding open into the wall. She stopped just inside the doorway and stomped the snow off her boots, the door closing behind her. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on here and who’s emergency beacons I’m responding to?”
“Ours,” shouted the man who’s back was to her, still carrying a foil-wrapped human form through another doorway, the other men standing around, looking grim and forlorn.
Lisa began to follow and paused, glancing at one of the tank crew, “What is this place?”
“This is the Muerto Canyon Silver Mine…”
Lisa nodded inside her helmet, “OK…” trotting off to keep up with whomever it was she was supposed to be rescuing.
“Any info, Skipper?”
Lisa keyed her comm, “Not yet Mac. Although I know where we are now; the Muerto Canyon Silver Mine…”
‘That’s really not much help. Should I come in?”
“Better than freezing your ass off out there. But close her up and leave the comm relay active in case we need to contact the Raven. MOBIUS might not reach out of the canyon.”
“Copy that.”
After passing several offices, Lisa caught up in a one-room infirmary, a man in a medical uniform on the other side of the exam table unwrapping a foil emergency blanket off the patient on the table. “The blanket did a good job,” he motioned, checking the readout from the sensors, “she’s only a degree off.” He pulled the blanket off her head, opening it some, peeling it down but leaving it mostly in place. “Now let’s clean her up,” he indicated the blood on her face and hair. “I need to see where all that came from. Let’s hope it’s all superficial - the face and scalp can bleed pretty good. I don’t like the fact that she’s still unconscious though… How long has she been out?”
“I don’t know… twenty minutes? Thirty minutes?” The big man pulled off his hat and gloves, throwing them on the floor in frustration, “I… I…”
“Don’t worry,” the man in the medical uniform assured him, “we’ll figure it out and get her squared away.”
Lisa tried to peek around the big man who’s back was to her, but the patient’s face was covered in blood and matted hair. “What happened?” she asked gently. “And how did you get on a… coded frequency?” she added in hushed tones.
The big man turned around slowly, not wanting to look away as the medical attendant began his task, “We…” he whispered.
“Chase?!”
His head snapped back like she’d taken a swing at him, “You know me?” he squinted, trying to see through the gold visor, only seeing his own distorted reflection.
Lisa glanced up, seeing her suit’s system light, realizing her visor was still closed, Ugh. She reached up on the side of her helmet and rotated the visor control, a small hiss escaping as it released the seal before snapping up, the smell of musty wood, oil, leather and metal washing in. She didn’t know what a mine was supposed to smell like, but if she had to guess, this would be it.
Chase’s eyes went wide, “Lisa?!”
“Lisa?” muttered Mercedes, her eyes still closed.
“She’s still out,” confirmed the attendant, who was carefully cleaning up the blood, “but she heard you, she’s receiving,” he indicated her ears, “so that’s a good sign.”
“I didn’t recognize your ship…” whispered Chase.
“I get it, you had bigger concerns,” she whispered back. “The Raven is in Amanpoor.”
“How did you...?”
“Your beacon.”
“You mean that’s all it took? We should’ve done it months ago…”
“Months ago we wouldn’t have heard it, we’ve only been planet-side for about forty-eight hours.”
Chase drew her in and gave her a bear hug, “God, it’s good to see you…”
Feeling like she was being hugged by an actual bear, Lisa patted him on the back, “You too…” she wheezed, patting him a little more forcefully, “can’t, breathe…”
“Sorry,” he lamented, letting go. “I…”
“Is that Mercedes?”
“Yeah…”
“What the hell happened out here?” she interrupted abruptly. “Who was trying to kill you? And why?”
Chase shook his head, “It’s a looong story.”
“Gimme the Cliffs Notes, version.” She turned and looked over at Draza Mac standing in the infirmary doorway, “Call the Raven, tell them we need a pickup for two…” she turned back to Chase, “three. There should be three… where’s Torn Dado?”
“Back at the Sandy Hill…”
“Which is what? Where?”
“Our casino, the Sandy Hill Bar & Casino - in Sandorra.”
“Did you say, your casino?”
Chase slapped his forehead, “Oh shit! If they came for us way out here - they may have tried to hit the casino! I need to call Tornado and Red!”
He pulled up a screen on his MOBIUS and Lisa turned away, her eyes wide, “Mac, update the Raven, see if they can locate the Sandy Hill Bar & Casino in Sandorra, maybe ask if they can check in there to find Torn Dado… and ask if they have anything on our friend in the T-24…”
■ ■ ■
“I told you it was a long story,” said Chase, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Mercedes, who was awake, sipping tea, looking more like herself. Tiny scars covered half of her face and neck where the medical attendant had bonded the lacerations closed.
Lisa leaned back in her chair, arms folded casually, her feet up on a corner of the bed, “So…” she rubbed her nose, “you two…”
“Three,” countered Mercedes, “Tornado…”
“Right
, Tornado. Sooo, you three get stranded on this planet, and now you own a casino, a silver mine and you’re worth millions?” She threw her hands up, “Boy, did I pick the wrong fucking job…”
“Well it wasn’t all that easy,” countered Mercedes. “You forget about the…”
“Yeah, yeah,” waved Lisa with a smirk, “you killed some bad guys, had to ditch the police, escaped to Sandorra, and bought a casino with stolen money…”
“And have competitors trying to kill us…” added Chase.
Lisa shook her head, “Psh, a minor disagreement. Did I ever tell you about getting shot down over the Velorian jungle, in a dogfight with Gogol mercenaries? And having to eject… in a hurricane?” She pointed at them with mock seriousness, “And I still found my brother…”
Draza Mac leaned in through the infirmary doorway, “Shuttle is about fifteen minutes out.”
“Did you ask them to do a security circuit around the area before coming in?”
“Sure did, Skipper.” He disappeared and came back again, “Almost forgot, the T-24 was a rental...”
“Mmm,” frowned Lisa, “do we know…”
“Leased to Zareth Topps at Topp Industries,” continued the Sergeant. “The pilot was arrested when it touched down in Sandorra - he was alone.”
Chase glanced at Mercedes, “Who the hell is Zareth?”
“I don’t remember that name at all… but then, I have a concussion,” she smiled crookedly, “what’s your excuse?”
“Always the smartass,” he countered.
■ ■ ■
Flight suit unzipped to her beltline, 2ndSkyn under garment exposed, Lisa sat in the corner on burgundy velvet, stretching her legs out on the conference room sofa. “Well it’s not exactly Vegas… but not bad. You’ve got a nice little deal here… Gotta’ say, I’m a little jealous.”
Chase and Mercedes sat on opposite sides of the conference table, a dozen holo-screens open between them. Mercedes broke from her work to hazard a glance in the pilot’s direction, “Yeah, well, I have a feeling we’ve overstayed our welcome…”
“What was your first clue?” jabbed Chase.
“Shut up, you,” she chided back.
Lisa crossed her legs at the ankle, “So what are you going to do with the place?”
“This is our 401K retirement,” volunteered Chase. “Ten percent of the profits for me, ten percent for Mercy, Ten for Tornado…”
“Uhhh… Torn Dado is a UFW officer, I don’t think he’s allowed to profit from…”
“We’re not telling anyone,” interrupted Mercedes, “least of all the UFW.” She pointed at Lisa, “And you’re not telling anyone either, got it?”
Lisa raised her hands in surrender, “Who am I gonna’ tell?”
“The money will go into a blind trust account - whenever he retires he can unlock it… Same with ours.”
Lisa shifted her gaze to Chase, “But you guys have millions now, what’s the point? You don’t even need it.”
“Because that money was acquired during an OP,” explained Mercedes, “it will likely go to the UFW…”
“What about the casino and the mine then, won’t they just take those too?”
Mercedes smiled - an evil little grin. “They can’t if there’s an owner who is part of the partnership, outside the service. The fact that we will not be engaged in the operations of either of the businesses allows the UFW enough separation for deniable liability.”
Lisa’s head tilted, “But who?”
“Red,” replied Chase, closing out one of his screens.
Lisa’s eyes widened, “The red android out there?” she motioned toward the door to the casino.
“That would be the one.”
“You’re going to be able to trust him - er - it?”
“Yes, of course. But it’s not really a matter of trust, it’ll all be automatic. He’s just going to be running things…”
“He’s capable?”
“He’s been doing it for a hundred years already…”
“Excuse me,” announced Red, tapping on the open doorway, dressed in his favorite tuxedo, his knuckle making a distinctive metal sound on the alloy of the Hollister’s frame. “You have a visitor…”
“Who?”
“Well at first I thought it was Inspector Brooker - but I was mistaken…”
Chase raised an eyebrow, “Mistaken? I didn’t think that was possible for you, Red…”
“Well yes and no,” said Brooker’s voice from behind the android as he peeked around his shoulder. He patted Red’s arm, who stepped aside, allowing the Inspector to enter - in full uniform. Chase and Mercedes, who had turned in her seat, both rose to their feet, a mix of surprise and astonishment on their faces. “I can see by your expressions you weren’t expecting me…”
Mercedes had a sudden chill run up her spine. His collar was covered in gold marks - matching the gold braid on the dress cap under his arm. “What the... Is that… Are you… That’s a Sheriffs uniform,” she finally managed to blurt out.
“The Sheriff, to be exact,” he corrected.
Chase shook his head, “How? I don’t understand…” He could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Sheriff Brooker motioned politely for them to sit back down as he made himself comfortable on the opposite end of the sofa from Lisa. The boldness and calm didn’t sit well with Chase, who felt like he was waiting for an ambush.
“I get the very distinct feeling that you are planning on leaving Sandorra… Are you planning on leaving G’Naroth Sarat as well?” He watched Chase and Mercedes exchange furtive glances. “Hmmm, your silence speaks volumes.” Brooker turned to Lisa, “You’re a new face… and I’m guessing by your attire you are a pilot… You are...?” he led, expecting a reply, extending his hand.
“Classified,” interrupted Mercedes. “She is not cleared to make a statement or communicate in any way with local authorities…”
“Shame on you Ms. Huang,” admonished Brooker, “I was simply being polite. I thought you might like an update on our situation.”
Mercedes motioned at his uniform, “Does that include an update on… this?”
“It does…” He set his uniform cap on the sofa next to him. “You know, I’ve always suspected you haven’t been totally honest with me throughout our, um, encounters.” He paused, awaiting a rebuttal that didn’t materialize. “Yes, well, I fear I haven’t been completely truthful with you either.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands steepled, “You see, when I told you there wasn’t a higher governmental power that we could go to, that was a bit of a lie…”
Chase scowled, “Bit? It was either a lie or it wasn’t, they don’t come in fractions of a lie…”
Brooker didn’t dispute it, he simply smiled, “The murders at the Cork & Cleaver were relatively high profile - so public, so bold. That’s bad for business in Amanpoor. When it has the possibility of economical affect, it ends up quickly moving from the Chief’s desk to the Mayor’s desk. Since we were able to track you to Sandorra, a, let’s just say, less than savory place, it became a question of who you were working for here. That’s when the Mayor of Amanpoor asked the Territorial Governor for help. Since I was the lead investigator on the case, I had previous contact with you, and I was far removed from what was suspected to be some serious corruption here, I was the logical candidate to be sent.” He leaned back against the sofa, “Thinking you were tied into it, I knew it was a very special opportunity to get an inside look at the corruption here - and it couldn’t hurt my career either…”
“If you survived,” commented Chase.
“There was that thought, yes. And after getting shot out front of your casino, I had a chance to deeply reflect on that, laying in my hospital bed. I was sure someone knew my real purpose here and had arranged for my murder…”
“And you thought that someone was us,” remarked Mercedes.
“Yes, yes I did.”
“And now?”
“Considering
you were the one who kept me from bleeding to death, gave me many moments of conflicted consideration. And of course, with the other events here, including the poison cigar evidence you supplied, I knew things here were much more complicated than I had anticipated…”
“Mercedes crossed her arms, “So you decided to use us. As bait.”
“I’d like to think it was a mutual arrangement. You helped me build a case and…”
“And what exactly did we get out of it?” interrupted Chase.
“I assumed you knew… a free pass on sins, past and present.” He watched Mercedes and Chase exchange a quick glance before continuing, “You had a mission, you had duties… I can understand the scope and importance of that. But understand this, there can be no future considerations or compromises going forward. Of course, since it appears you’re leaving us, the issue resolves itself.”
Mercedes motioned at his uniform, “You were going to explain this?”
“Ah yes,” he nodded. “Using the toxin evidence you supplied with the cigars you were gifted, we were able to determine with a little digging, the specific toxin was associated with several deaths in this area. The associated autopsies shared a common trait; they were all labelled as natural causes, without specificity. All the remains had been cremated, all the deaths were autopsied by the same coroner, and in each case the Sheriff’s Department was the investigating agency. The only difference were the lead investigators…”
“The Sheriff and the Deputy Chief of Sheriffs?” asked Mercedes.
Brooker pursed his lips, “Exactly – in their earlier positions, of course.”
Chase raised an eyebrow, “But if the autopsies were listed as natural causes, how did you tie them together with no remains?”
Brooker shifted, uncrossing his legs, “The coroner didn’t enter it into the records, but the coroner doesn’t do the lab workup. The lab is independent. In Amanpoor.”
“Oh damn…”
“Damn, indeed. The same lab my department uses in Amanpoor, is the same lab I sent your samples to for certification. They’re the ones who called it to my attention with the matching case numbers. Then it was just a matter of matching all the pieces. The first murder was Harland Topp’s first fiancée. The second murder was Daritt Topps, Harland’s father. The third was Waycom Hill…”
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