by Larry Payne
FREELANCERS
LARRY PAYNE
Copyright © 2017 Larry Payne
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be used, reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any manner, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without written permission of the author.
This book may contain views, premises, depictions, and statements by the author that are not necessarily shared or endorsed by Outlaws Publishing LLC.
For information contact: [email protected]
Cover Design by Outlaws Publishing LLC
Published by Outlaws Publishing LLC
March 2018 First Edition:
10987654321
Chapter 1
Sando Pandel slapped at his neck as he trudged ahead of his companion down the winding trail in the hot, humid Targus jungle.
“Damn bugs,” he complained, looking at the red spot in the middle of his palm that was once a skeeto bug. “I could be in some Cantina, on some exotic planet with a cool drink and a beautiful female.” He adjusted the backpack straps cutting into his shoulders.
“Quit complaining,” responded the gravelly, baritone voice behind him.
The big man walking behind Sando stood a shade under seven feet tall. He wore an open vest over his chiseled torso and massive arms. Black pants, stuffed into knee high black boots, hid his equally massive legs. A holstered blaster pistol was buckled around his waist with a bandolier of power cells hanging diagonally across his chest.
“I thought you liked adventure,” said the big man, the low, dense canopy of the jungle causing him to walk with a forward lean.
Sando grimaced and slapped his neck again. “My idea of adventure doesn’t include being eaten alive by bugs in the jungle of some God forsaken planet.”
The big man shook his head, his shoulder length hair hiding the badly scarred face that was turning the smile breaking across his face into a sinister sneer.
“If I never came back to this bug infested hell hole, it would be too soon,” said Sando, dispensing of another skeeto bug.
The dense canopy thinned, the sun reappeared and a clearing loomed ahead of them. The big man’s light tug on Sando’s arm stopped him before he emerged from the cover of the jungle.
A fenced compound, patrolled by two sentries, stood in the middle of the clearing. Starcraft, including a number of starfighters, dotted the area around the compound. A flourishing tent city resided inside the fenceline.
“Quite a layout,” said Sando, looking around the clearing. “But why didn’t we fly in here instead of hiking through a bug infested jungle?”
“That’s the way Brietta wanted it,” said the big man.
“Since when did you start letting people dictate to you how you move around?”
“Curiosity, my friend, curiosity. Besides, you needed some exercise. Now, let’s go see what our friend wants.”
The two companions emerged from the cover of the jungle and strode across the clearing. The two sentries, meeting at the near corner of the compound, waited for the approaching strangers.
“That’s far enough,” warned the younger of the two sentries. Both leveled their blaster rifles at the new arrivals.
“We’re here to see Raxlon Brietta,” said Sando, making it a point to keep his hands clear of his belted blaster.
“And who might you be?” asked the young sentry.
“I’m Sando Pandel and the big guy here is Mondo Kai.”
“Do tell and how do I know that?”
Kai stepped from behind Sando and strode slowly up to the sentry, stopping when the young man’s rifle barrel pressed into his stomach. The sentry began blinking rapidly as sweat ran down his face and into his eyes. The big man stared down at him for a moment, then leaned forward.
“Look,” he growled, “we’ve been walking all day through this hot, humid, bug infested jungle and I’m tired. When I get tired, I get irritable. When I get irritable, I get very, very nasty and you wouldn’t like me when I’m nasty. So, just let us pass through and we’ll all live happily ever after.”
The young sentry’s wide eyes stared through the veil of long hair into Kai’s scarred face and cold stare.
“Luka, let them pass,” urged the second sentry. The young sentry’s gaze never wavered from Kai’s trance like stare. “Luka!”
Luka swallowed hard, lowered his rifle and stepped aside, allowing the big man and his companion to file past him. Kai nodded to the guard holding the gate open and stepped into the compound ahead of Sando.
Chapter 2
Activity outside the tents that lined the high chain link fence ceased as Kai and Sando strode down the center of the compound.
“There’s a fortune in bounties living in this place,” said Sando, recognizing a number of the humans and aliens that were standing outside the tents watching them as they passed.
They approached the far end of the compound where two houses appeared out of place among the tents and wooden shacks. A guard, armed with a holstered blaster, pulled his feet from the porch railing of the large house and rose from his chair. He positioned himself in front of the house entrance and leaned back against the door, folding his arms across his chest. “Afternoon, what can I do for you?”
Kai and Sando stopped before they stepped up on the porch. The big man couldn’t remember seeing the young face on any of his bounty posters. “We’re here to see Raxlon Brietta.”
The guard straightened up and reached behind him to crack open the door, keeping watch on the two strangers out of the corner of his eye.
“You expecting visitors, Mister Brietta?” A voice answered him from inside the house and the young man pushed the door open. “After you.”
The two companions stepped up on the porch and the guard waved them through the door, followed them in and closed the door, positioning himself in front of it.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” said Raxlon Brietta from a chair in front of the dormant fireplace. “Come, sit down. It’s not much, but it’s home.”
Sando stopped inside the door and took a spot next to the young guard. Kai continued on into the room and, not wanting to restrict access to his blaster, stopped at the fireplace, resting his arm on the mantle. “I’ll stand.”
“Suit yourself,” said Brietta, shrugging his shoulders.
“So, what’s this all about?” asked Kai.
Brietta rose from his chair, his brightly colored robe flowing around him, and stepped over to the window where he lifted a large yellow snake from a glass case beneath it. He carried the reptile back to his chair, setting it in his lap when he sat down.
“This is my friend Lucious,” he said, “and we have a proposal for you.”
Kai watched the big yellow snake slither up Brietta’s right arm and come to rest across his shoulders. Lucious lifted his head and waved his forked tongue at the bounty hunter.
“I’m listening,” said Kai.
“Up until now,” said Brietta, “my little organization, if you will, has operated on a strictly planetary basis and has made me a lot of credits. But, now I need to widen my base. There is so much more to make by going galactic. But, I need someone who knows where to go and what people to see to make that happen. That’s where you come in. In your travels, I’m sure you’ve come across many of those people. You’ll get a healthy cut of whatever we make.”
Kai stood silent at the fireplace looking at the smug smile on Brietta’s face. After a moment, he looked over at Sando and then back at Brietta.
“We have a couple of problems here,” said Kai.
“If it’s credits…” started Brietta.
The big
man shook his head and waved his hand. “It’s more than that. First of all, I don’t work for anybody. I work for myself. Second, this little organization, as you put it, isn’t going anywhere with you running this group of small time petty criminals you’ve assembled.”
Sensing trouble brewing, the guard at the door reached for his blaster, but Sando grabbed the guard’s wrist and pulled his own blaster, sticking it in the young man’s ribs.
“I wouldn’t,” he whispered, relieving the guard of his weapon.
“Third,” continued Kai, “I personally know that the people you need won’t have anything to do with a small time operator like you. Now I, on the other hand, would have no problems dealing with these people if I was running this outfit. Do you catch my drift?”
Brietta started to bolt from his chair, but struggled with the weight of the snake on his shoulders, giving Kai ample time to draw his blaster and fire. The crime lord sat back in his chair, looked down at the charred, smoking hole in the front of his robe and then up at Kai in disbelief. His head slowly sagged until it rested on his chest.
“You’ve been replaced,” taunted Kai, looking down at the lifeless body. The big man holstered his blaster.
“And you’re out of a job. So sad,” whispered Sando from behind the guard.
Kai beckoned his partner with a wave of his hand. “Bring him here, he may be of some use to us.”
Sando nudged the young man forward with the barrel of his blaster.
“Sit down,” ordered Kai, pointing to the empty chair in front of the fireplace. The guard’s stare locked onto his former boss’s lifeless body slumped in the chair across from him.
“What’s your name?” asked Kai.
“Omer Tran.”
“Well, Omer Tran, what should I do with you?”
“Uh…excuse me,” interrupted Sando, backing up a step and pointing to Lucious sliding from the chair to the floor. “Could you do something with that?”
Kai looked from Sando to the floor and bent over, grabbed the big yellow snake and draped him around his neck.
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” said Sando and pointed to the glass case under the window. “Could you put him back in there?”
The big man smiled at his companion, stepped over to the window and gently returned Lucious to his home. “Happy now?”
Sando smiled at Kai and touched his forehead with two fingers in a mock salute. “Thank you.”
Kai returned his attention to the guard. “Now, Omer Tran, where were we?” He held up a finger. “Ah, yes, I was about to ask you to tell me something that would persuade me to keep you around.”
Tran pointed to his recently deceased boss. “He carries a key in his pocket that opens a lock on the building next door. Inside is some big shot’s wife he was holding for ransom. He had this idea that the credits from the ransom were gonna fund these big plans that he had.”
Kai stepped over to Brietta’s corpse, searched the pockets of the robe and held up a key ring with a lone key on it.
“Watch him,” said Kai before he turned and strode out the side door.
* * * *
The woman turned from the window when Kai unlocked the door and stepped into the room. He stood admiring the woman’s flawless features, especially the fire red hair draping her shoulders.
“What do you want?” she asked, apprehension evident in her voice.
“I want to know your name.”
“Why?”
“I would at least like to know who I’m releasing.”
“What?” An unsure look crossed the woman’s face.
“Look, Miss whatever your name is, I’ve never been partial to the whole ransom thing. Sometimes it tends to get a bit messy. So, you’re free to go. But I would at least like to know who I’m releasing.”
She gave Kai an unsure look for a moment. “Rena Clayton. Now tell me who you are and what does Brietta think about you turning me loose?”
“I’m called Mondo Kai and what Raxlon Brietta does or doesn’t think, doesn’t matter anymore. So, you’re free to go.”
“Just like that, I can walk out of here?”
“Just like that. I’ll even have an escort take you to the spaceport.”
Rena still had the unsure look on her face.
“Of course,” Kai continued, “if you chose to stay, I would have no objection.”
“But, I could leave if I wanted to?”
“Free as a bird,” said Kai. He stepped to the middle of the room and laid the key on the table between them. “When you decide, let me know.”
Kai turned and strode back through the open door. When he stepped into the sunlight, he glanced back and saw Rena pick up the key.
* * * *
Sando and Omer Tran looked up when Kai returned back through the side door.
“Me and my new friend, Tran here, had a little discussion while you were gone and I don’t think you’ll have to worry about him,” said Sando.
“Is that so?” said Kai. He looked from his companion to Tran. “I detect any signs to the contrary and I’ll dump you in the same hole with your ex-boss. Understood?”
Tran nodded his head. “I understand. You won’t have to worry about me.”
“Good,” said Kai. “Now let’s go see what we have to work with here.”
Chapter 3
Owen Clayton piloted his luxury shuttle toward the array of lights marking deep space station, Freedom I. Commissioned after the Galactic War, Freedom I was a floating metropolis located in the outer region to serve as an intergalactic port of call.
Clayton acquired the necessary clearance to land and throttled back the shuttle’s engines as traffic increased nearer the station. He guided the shuttle toward the second of the space station’s three hangar levels, through the hangar door and past an illuminated droid directing him toward a second blinking droid.
He followed the second droid into the nearest empty bay. Easing the shuttle forward, he got a thumbs up and the droid went dark. He settled the shuttle on the deck and cut the engines. He unbuckled his seat harness and maneuvered his rotund body out of the pilot’s seat. He removed his suit coat from the hook beside the hatch and slid into it.
Clad in his trademark white suit, with a gold ring on each finger and a gold chain around his neck, Owen Clayton stepped from the cockpit and shuffled into the shuttle bay turned living quarters. He opened the outside hatch, lowered the ramp and punched the number code into the security panel. He stepped from the shuttle, closing the hatch and setting the system.
He shuffled down the ramp to the front of the spacecraft and climbed the three steps to the autowalk and rode it to the nearest bank of lifts. He always found getting off the autowalk a little trickier than getting on, but managed to step off without falling on his face.
He waited for the lift and filed into the open doors, making sure he was near the front of the car. The lift doors closed and reopened a couple of minutes later to the flashing lights, loud music and hawking vendors of the concourse level.
He decided against trying to navigate the crowd and chose instead to partake in another adventure on the autowalk that ran past the eateries, casinos, boutiques and cantinas. He rode it to the end of the concourse and stepped off in front of the Stargazer Hotel. He shuffled through the sliding door and up to the registration desk.
“Welcome, Mister Clayton,” said the desk clerk, spinning the register around for Owen to sign. “Good to see you again. Your room is ready for you as always.”
Clayton always found it amusing to see the hotel’s hired help fall over themselves whenever he showed up. The desk clerk slid the keycard across the desk to him as he signed the register.
“Is Quentin Magnus in?” asked Clayton.
“Mister Magnus and his companion are in the dining room having supper. When he’s finished, do you want me to tell him you’d like to see him?”
“Don’t bother,” said Clayton. He slid the keycard into his suit coat pocket and
shuffled toward the dining room.
Due to the early hour, only a few of the tables were occupied and only one of them by two people. He maneuvered the length of the dining room toward the far corner. The two men looked up from their meals when he approached the table.
“Quentin Magnus?”
Clayton looked at each of the men as they sat looking up at him. The mark of the Jebhari warrior, a five-pointed star, scarred the left cheek of the big man on his right. The scars that crossed the face of the man on his left ran around and under the black patch over his left eye. They were not scars of pride, but the scars of a battle hardened veteran that at some time in his life had looked death in the face and survived.
“Who’s asking?” said the Jebhari.
“Owen Clayton.”
The eye of the Jebhari’s companion met the eyes of the big warrior and then made a quick assessment of the man standing between them. Owen Clayton was well known around the galaxy for his ability to acquire hard to find items. His means for finding such items sometimes came into question, but he never failed to deliver.
“I’m Magnus,” said black patch.
“May I?” asked Clayton, motioning to the empty chair in front of him between the two men.
Magnus looked at the Jebhari, then back at Clayton and nodded toward the chair. The strong fragrance of expensive cologne swirled around the table when Clayton sat down. He interlaced his fingers across his stomach and looked at Magnus. “I have a need for a man in your profession and you come highly recommended.”
“I’m listening,” said Magnus, forking a bite of his supper into his mouth.
Clayton reached into his inside coat pocket, retrieved a folded piece of paper and slid it across the table to Magnus. “My wife took a trip recently and shortly after she left I got this.”
Magnus unfolded the paper and read a note asking for one million credits for the return of Rena Clayton and that Clayton would be contacted where and when to make the transfer. Magnus refolded the note and slid it across the table to the Jebhari.
“Why did you come to me and not the authorities?”