by T. R. Harris
“Don’t, Adam,” Sherri said. “Let’s just talk; anything else would be just delaying the inevitable.”
Adam nodded and removed his hand. “So what is it that’s really bothering you? You can’t honestly believe there’s anything going on between me and Arieel?”
“So you’re on a first-name basis with the bitch – sorry.”
“It’s better than calling her Speaker all the time. That gets awkward really fast.”
“Look, I don’t care if you hook up with her. Hell, even I think she’s the most-beautiful thing in the freaking galaxy—”
“You should see the Formilian men,” Adam interrupted with a smile. “I’d probably feel the same way if you’d gone to Formil instead of me. But just the fact that they are all Greek-god-gorgeous should tell you that Arieel would have no interest in me. We’re just a race of scrawny, pink-skinned nerds to them.”
The smile finally came to Sherri’s lips – finally. “Yeah, I’ve seen the pictures and the newscasts. They are disgustingly good-looking, aren’t they, every damn one of them!”
“You got that right. Not only that, but they’re also really smart – all except Arieel.”
“What do you mean,” Sherri seemed to perk up with this change in the conversation. There was no denying Arieel’s beauty, but if she were stupid….
“She’s been raised in a sheltered environment her whole life. She has no common sense or street cred, I guess you might call it.”
“Like I do.”
“Exactly! You’ve been around. You’ve always had my back, always been there when I needed you.”
Sherri looked down at her feet, dangling off the edge of the couch. “I guess you’ve always been there for me, too, even though I hate to admit it.” She looked back at him abruptly. “So what’s this bullshit about spending almost thirty days on Formil trying to track down McCarthy? You really expect me to believe that?”
He hesitated again, looking her in the eye. “I was researching something – and not the body of Arieel Bol! It’s something that if it works out could really help us do our job out here, something that will make it safer for us to operate.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you … yet.”
Sherri’s eyes grew wide and her jaw tightened.
“Seriously, I can’t tell you yet. I promised someone. But if it works out, then you’ll be the first to know, I promise you.”
“And you always keep your promises?”
“I try, you know that.”
Sherri looked away again. “How long? How long until you can let me in on your little secret?”
“Give me six months—“”
“Six months – no way!” Sherri sat up straighter on the couch, almost ready to stand and walk away. “I’m about to go bat-shit crazy out here. I can’t take another six month of this god-damn alien universe. I’m craving a Big Mac right about now, and a mindless sitcom to help me escape all the horrible things I’ve seen and done.”
Sherri then reached out with her hands and grabbed his shirt. “I love you Adam Cain, that’s why it’s so hard to leave, and the adventure has been fun at times; playing superwoman can be a real headrush. But I’m really missing normal shit. You have to be feeling it, too?”
“I do. And here’s another thing I’ll promise you: give me six months – at the most – and then after that we’ll both go back to Earth, if not permanently, then for a really long vacation. Nothing to do but pig out at In ‘n Out Burger and watch reruns of The Big Bang Theory!”
Sherri smiled and moved in closer to Adam. “That sounds good, real good. But make it sooner than six months. If I have to fight for my life one more time, I may just give up and let the alien gods take me. I’m just getting too tired to try anymore.”
“Let’s get you unpacked.”
Sherri pulled Adam in closer and kissed him hard. When they separated, she looked lustfully into his eyes and said, “I’ll unpack tomorrow. Right now all I want to think about is how human we both are, and how well our bodies do fit together … naturally.”
“No argument there. I’m sure there’s nothing much going in the universe tonight that can’t wait until tomorrow for us to save.”
“Oh, Clark Kent, is that a rock of kryptonite in your pants, or are you just glad to see me?”
Adam laughed a little too loudly at the ribald comment, thinking how Nigel McCarthy had used his own variation of the line back on Uniss-3. Only this time, Adam was glad to see her … and there was definitely something rock-like hiding in his pants….
Chapter 26
Nigel McCarthy knew that any approach of Cain’s base from the air would be noticed, however with all the sea-traffic on the large, shallow sea where the island was located, an approach by water was a better option.
He came in a single spaceship, packed heavy with the twenty members of the assault team along with all their equipment. Even though there were only six other Humans they were going up against, Nigel had read their short bios and knew it would not be a cake-walk. Besides Cain being a trained Navy SEAL, Henderson and Dawson were Army Special Forces – the same as his second-in-command Carter Thomas.
The other military man was Lee Schwartz, who was the nephew of one of the big-wig admirals during the Human-Juirean War. The young Navy Commander had earned his chops while commanding the Human Shadow Fleet. This clandestine force had been comprised of the overinflated and imaginary casualties the Human’s had suffered during the battles leading up to the grand finale at Falor-Kapel. In reality, the Humans had suffered far few losses than had been reported. These phantom losses were then consolidated under the command of Commander Schwartz, and when the Juireans turned to face what they thought was a vastly inferior Human fleet, it had turned into a rout. Schwartz and his fleet had swept and annihilated the Juireans. The battle of Falor-Kapel was the deciding factor in the war. From then on there was no force capable of standing against the Humans, not even the Klin and their allies, the Kracori.
Schwartz had commanded the Shadow Fleet, and now he was a member of Cain’s Crusaders.
The last male member of Cain’s team was the former terrorist and galactic pirate Riyad Tarazi. He was an accomplished strategist and urban fighter who could never be underestimated. More than once, Tarazi had help foil the plans of the Klin, and indirectly, of McCarthy’s as well.
Finally, the lone woman on the team: Sherri Valentine. Sherri was a study in contrasts: A former veterinary student, who after being abducted by Nigel’s forces had managed to escape from Klin custody to become one the most-feared assassins within the Fringe Worlds, working for none other than Kroekus of Silea during his criminal enterprise days.
All-in-all, Cain’s Crusaders were not to be taken lightly, and hence the twenty-trained Human killers McCarthy brought with him to Pyrum-3.
However, his greatest asset was the large, silver medallion he now wore around his neck.
The scientist Kronis Nur had earned his million-credit bonus, having built the primitive control device Nigel now wore. Even though it wasn’t as small, fast or sophisticated as the Formilian device, it still was capable of reading Nigel’s thoughts and hacking into local electronic devices.
And one of the first tests Nigel had undertaken with his new powers was to see if he could override the micro-processors found in flash weapons. The test had been a success and now Nigel pranced around the staging area on the mainland of Pyrum-3, six miles by sea from Cain’s base, feeling as invulnerable and indestructible as a man could feel.
Nigel’s force had come in low from the opposite side of the planet until they arrived at the long spit of land that was the closest part of the mainland to Cain’s base. They had set down in a large field about a mile from the beach, where clumps of bright green, canopied trees grew. As McCarthy and his men set about unloading their equipment and inflating the Zodiacs they would use to reach the island, they noticed the dozen or so centaur-like creatures grazing near the trees. The lar
ge beasts appeared to be untroubled by the presence of the Humans, although occasionally one would lift it’s very Human-like head and look at them, before returning casually to its grazing.
An hour after landing, the assault force set off for the beach, carrying three inflatable boats above their heads along with all their gear.
As soon as they had disappeared over the first large sands dunes leading to the beach, Ka’lo, leader of the Cupin’los of Pyrum-3, set off in at a gallop for his domicile three quarter-mars away. There was a communication device there supplied by the Humans on the island. Even though Ka’lo did not understand who these other Humans were, the simple fact that they had landed on the mainland and not on the island meant they were probably not of Adam Cain’s herd. And they also carried weapons, lot of weapons, and boats in which to make the journey to the island. All-in-all, Ka’lo did not feel comfortable letting this information go unreported.
And maybe if he could gain the favor of Adam Cain by reporting this to him, he would allow the other Humans to ride him and his fellow Cupin’los more often.
By the time Ka’lo reached his domicile, McCarthy and his men were already halfway across the channel to the island. According to the charts they had studied, there was a large opening in the barrier reef facing the mainland where most of the access to the island flowed. It was dark when the force passed through the opening and entered the shallow lagoon, their boats silently powered by compact electric motors, ironically designed by Formilian engineers.
The base was clearly defined on the island, brightly lit structures and a scattering of other perimeter lights around the one concrete dock jutting into the lagoon. McCarthy was in the lead boat, scanning the shoreline with a pair of night-vision binoculars. There was no one to be seen moving around the dock area, and shifting to the large shell-shaped living quarters, he could make out two people standing on high balconies appearing to be having a barbeque.
Nigel smiled. They think they’re back home, without a care in the world. This might actually be a cake-walk—
Suddenly every light on the island went out! Nigel turned to see all his men also donning night-vision goggles just as he slide his down over his eyes, replacing the binoculars. He motioned for two of the boats on either side of him to spread out and head for the beaches on either side of the dock. He would still proceed to their primary LZ of the dock, but now it was obvious Cain had detected their presence.
Even in the tense moment prior to engaging in battle, Nigel stretched out a thin smile. He felt with his new device and identified the main electrical cut off to the lights for the base, knowing that with a thought, he could turn them back on. But then Cain would know something was up. Cain knew McCarthy was working on learning the secrets of the Formilians. By overriding the cut off, Cain would know he had succeeded. So unless it was absolutely necessary, Nigel would keep his new powers a secret, at least until he had secured Cain and Valentine.
All three of the boats made landfall within a few seconds of each other and the commandos poured out onto the shore and took up defensive positions. McCarthy and the eight men with him, including Carter Thomas, scrambled onto the dock and sprinted down the short deck before taking cover behind a series of crates and storage lockers. Each of his men carried Xan-fi flash rifles set on level-one, along with an M4-A1 assault rifle and 45-caliber sidearm. McCarthy knew he could control flash weapons, so he instructed his men to begin the assault with the energy guns, hoping that any countering force would also use the more readily available MK’s or Xan-Fi’s. If they did, then McCarthy would simply send a command to override the weapons of Cain’s defenders, hoping that they also chose to leave their real weapons – their carbines and HK’s – back at the arsenal.
If not, then his men were ready for that, too.
The squad to Nigel’s left had left the beach and entered a grouping of low storage sheds just to the left of the Ops Center building. Nigel knew two of the Humans had been three stories up only moments ago in the big shell-shaped building at the center of the three main structures. Another would undoubtedly be in the Ops Center, standing watch. That left only three more scattered around the grounds, and more-than-likely also in the central building. From the time lights went out into now would not have afforded the unsuspecting Humans enough time to form any organized defense. In one way this was good, in another not so much. If Cain’s force had consolidated to single location, then Nigel could have easily overwhelmed it with his vastly superior force. But now he had to contend with five or six individual points of defense. Nigel still had the advantage, but in this scenario he would suffer greater casualties.
Just then, a sudden burst of staccato automatic weapon fire sounded off to his right. He looked over to see three of his men collapse. Shit! They were using real weapons – Human weapons. These Nigel could not control.
His men opened up on a location about fifty yards away, near the entrance to the large hangar building. Knowing the layout of the facility as he did – thanks to the construction plans he was able to pull off the Library – he knew there were dozens of places to hide around the hangar building. He pressed the button on his should comm unit. “Proceed to the hangar. The shooter is probably long gone. Secure the area.”
He watched as the remaining squad on his right – four men – scrambled off toward the hangar. As they neared the point where the original shots had been fired, the lights pointing down at the hangar entrance suddenly flashed to life. The four commandos, now blinded through their night-vision goggles, dove for the tarmac while ripping off their glasses. Three more lines of fire shot out from a point now to the right of the hangar, cutting down Nigel’s men where they lay.
And then the night went dark again.
Nigel had just lost seven commandos to a single gunman. He didn’t like how this was starting out.
“Thomas, and the two of you, move to the right and position yourselves near that tanker, and take off your goggles. Get ready to shoot anything that moves. Go!”
A moment later, Nigel felt for the light control for the hangar, and with a thought, caused them to flash on again.
As he was hoping, he caught the gunman moving to another position closer to the hangar. Stunned by the sudden bath of light, he hesitated, and Thomas and the other commandos opened up. The defender fell and lay there, unmoving.
I hope that wasn’t Cain. I need him.
In the meantime, the force to Nigel’s left had reached the Ops building and secured the doors. There were only two into the structure, and so only two commandos were needed to trap whoever might be inside, taking him out of the fight. The other five moved off to the living quarters where the bulk of the defenders should be located. They would deal with anyone in the Ops Center later.
The thirteen remaining commandos reached the base of the living quarters without incident. There were stairs and an elevator in the building. Six of the apartments were located on the top floor, with three on the second level along with a large cafeteria/lounge area. The bottom floor, which was located just above the heads of the Commandos on the parking-ground level, contained environmental controls, power backups and other utility facilities. Nigel sent his commandos into the stairwell, and soon they emerged on the first floor without meeting any resistance.
The second and third floors would contain the most people, not counting whoever might be in Ops, if any. By crowding them all into a floor or two, Nigel’s chance of capturing more of them in one place was looking better.
His men secured the stairwell leading to the second floor and then took up positions guarding the doorway into the common room. Nigel came up near the door. It was locked, but done so by an electronic device. The smile returned to Nigel’s lips. He sought out the control box and deactivated it with his mind. He then nodded to one of his men, who grabbed the handle and pulled open the door.
From inside the room, Nigel could hear the sound of running. His men stormed into the large room, furnished with large couches, reading c
hairs and a scattering of dining tables. Someone was running for an exit door at the far end of the room. Nigel reached out and found the controls for the door, locking it instantly. He could hear the sounds of frustration erupt from the runner as he cursed the now-locked door.
Nigel’s men closed in, and found a husky black man sitting at the base of the door, hands above his head. This would be Jamal Dawson. Nigel moved up to him; he was unarmed and more than a little pissed.
“I thought fire codes said all these doors must remained unlocked at all times,” Nigel said with a sparkle in his eye. He reached past Dawson, who was now guarded by a dozen automatic rifles, and pressed on the handle. It opened effortlessly.
Dawson’s mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide. “Well fuck me halfway to Nashville! I swear that thing wouldn’t open only a second ago.”
“It’s all in the wrist, sergeant-major.” Nigel nodded and several of his commandos lifted Dawson from the floor and placed nylon-string handcuffs on his wrists behind his back.
“Where are the rest of them?” McCarthy asked his prisoner. “We’ve already killed one out by the hangar.”
Again, Dawson’s mouth fell open. “That would be Schwartz. He was over there working on the Phoenix – you bastard!” He struggled to reach Nigel, but was held back by the commandos.
“Relax Dawson,” Nigel said. “I didn’t come here to kill you, just to have a little talk with your boss. So where is Cain?”
Dawson’s jaw tightened up. “I’m not telling you shit! You’re that bastard McCarthy, aren’t you?”
“In the flesh, but again, I didn’t come here to kill anyone. I just want to talk with Cain.”
“Find him yourself … before he finds you!”
“Sergeant, if I have to go floor-to-floor and building to building, I will keep running into your people, and more of them will get killed. Just give me Cain and I’ll leave the rest of you alone.”