by C. R. Daems
"Plata," I said. "Bishan will be expecting me, whereas Hoch may not. If he doesn't want to kill me, maybe we can resolve the issue peacefully.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Star System: Plata
Again I left Kraig with the Tykhe, as one person could currently defend the ship against most assaults that breached the ship. Jere disappeared, as he had before. An hour later I stood in front of a giant wooden structure with a sod roof, supposedly representative of a Viking Longhouse. Inside the walls were wood with exposed beams and hundreds of shields with different designs and symbols covering the walls. The tables were positioned along the perimeter, leaving the center open. Currently two men were fighting with shields and battleaxes in the open area in the middle. The fight looked real except for the presence of a referee.
"Mr. Hoch wishes you welcome, Miss Zenaida?" a broad-shouldered man dressed as a Viking warrior asked. "His booth is in the center of the longhouse on the right if you care to join him."
The only thing that spoiled the Viking image was the Mfw partially hidden by the sheepskin vest. Obviously my visit wasn't a surprise. On my way to his booth I noticed at least twelve armed men and women. I took Thapa with me but told Ghale to stay at the front entrance. I wasn't sure what to expect as the club appeared full and must have had a hundred customers, including those sitting at the bar.
Hoch was smiling as I approached. He was dressed all in black. His long black hair, tied in a rope, hung past his shoulders. A long-sleeve silk shirt covered his arms but the unbuttoned shirt revealed he was heavily tattooed to his neck.
"Welcome, Zenaida. I have to admit I thought you would visit Bishan before me. Are you here to kill me?"
"Although I believe I have justification, I'm here to negotiate."
"I understand the negotiations didn't go well with Carlo," he said while appraising me.
"He had a sledge hammer and thought it the solution to everything."
"That is the problem with sledge hammers. If you have one you feel like you must use it." He grinned. "Sit unless you're in a hurry."
"I'll have a Blue Ice," I said as I sat after he waved away the woman who had been sitting with him. "I've been told the Black Hand has decided I must join them now that I know their little secret, or kill me… well Carlo did suggest selling me into slavery as an alternative."
Hoch laughed. "That sounds like Carlo. So, what do you want to negotiate?"
"I'm starting an organization of my own. I'm calling it the White Hand so as not to confuse it with the Black Hand. I would settle for you not pissing on me and me not pissing on you."
"Of course, that won't work. So?" Hoch said, his face expressing amusement but his slight leaning in my direction indicating interest.
"I'd be willing to offer you and Bishan a partnership in the White Hand—equal partners in the profits."
"But not in policy," he said, almost to himself.
"The White Hand would look to control the smuggling operations in the Lower and Far Rim systems."
"And if that isn't acceptable?"
"I'm not a killer but I'm not prey. Carlo will attest to the fact that having a large organization doesn't make you invincible."
"What if I have you killed right now?" Hoch grinned.
"That's an alternative option. The Hunter would be paid to balance the scales." I grinned back.
"No, Zenaida, you aren't prey. Why offer me a partnership?"
"You have all sorts of contracts which will expedite dominating the smuggling trade. I believe we can own the entire business without needing a hammer. We'll be cheaper and more reliable, which will please the dealers."
"I don't know about Bishan, but I'd like to hear the details."
* * *
"How did it go?" Kraig asked when we returned several hours later.
"He agreed to join the White Hand."
"What! You’re letting a member of the Black Hand join?" Kraig rose from the table, his face twisted in anger. “They are evil. I thought—"
I raised a hand to stop him continuing. "Kraig, by Central Systems standards I'm a criminal and evil because I smuggle drugs. Hoch pretty much controls the Lower Rim systems so he can give the White Hand control of those systems. But the main point is that he agrees I'm in command and that the White Hand limits its activities to smuggling drugs. Besides benefiting the new White Hand organization, it's good for the ACS." I paused and waved Kraig to sit. "First, I will stop most of the illegal drug traffic into the ACS, and Hock joining will stop most of the contract murders, sex trafficking, and kidnapping for ransom activity. Obviously those kind of things will continue to happen but it should be significantly reduced. It's the reason Colonel Sherman was willing to help me if she could."
Kraig’s frown slowly softened and he nodded then gave a snort. "I guess she's more open minded than me."
"No, just more pragmatic. Her concern is the Central Systems. So anything that makes the ACS a safer place she will endorse. And it's not like she is being derelict in her duty since she has no authority in the Rim. Consequently, if she can impact the Rim in a positive way, it's a bonus."
"I can't get over wrong is wrong no matter where it takes place or who does it." He shook his head like a dog out of water. "But as you have frequently pointed out, right and wrong tend to vary by who is in charge and who does it. I think those of us with a military background tend to think in terms of black and white—something is right or it's wrong."
"I doubt Bishan will be as amenable as Hoch. Hoch is a strategic thinker and came to the conclusion if you beat Bishan you will destroy the Black Hand in the long term. So rather than fight the inevitable, he would just change sides," Jere said. I agreed. "Of course, you have to win over Bishan."
"Yes. The confrontation with Bishan will decide the fate of the White and the Black Hands."
CHAPTER THRTY-THREE
Star System: Samxor
"The seven-day trip to Samxor was sober—the final move was Bishan's and it would determine who won and who lost. Logically, he had the advantage since he had a large organization, knew we were coming, and had time to plan his response. In fact, my involvement gave him the chance to be the sole leader of the Black Hand—an irresistible thought for Bishan, whom Richard had described as a combination egomaniac and psychopath.
We arrived at Samxor without any problems and were directed to our assigned area. I was a little surprised to see two customs inspectors there waiting. Normally they gave one time to turn off the engines, close down the ship's functions, and prepare for the inspection. I shrugged. No doubt Bishan wanted information about the Tykhe, its crew, and me, and had paid the officials well to get it. I made my way to the cargo area and lowered the loading platform. When it was completely lowered, I smiled and waved the inspectors forward. Instead, they drew lasers.
"Freeze, Zenaida," the younger of the two said. He and his partner looked nervous. Their heads and eyes scanning the area rather than focusing on me. I stood confused and unable to come to terms with what was happening. I recognized both the inspectors, so they were real, but they didn't normally carry guns and didn't arrest people. That was Port security's function. I didn't like the idea of killing customs agents without more justification than I had at the moment. Then I noticed men running toward the Tykhe from behind two starships parked nearby. I waved Shadi back into the ship before several of the men in the lead began firing blasts from their Mfws. Pellets hit one of the customs men as he stood in a direct line between the running men and me. He sprawled forward. The other dove to the side with arms covering his head. I threw myself through the doorway while spraying in the direction of the leading group. Two fell, causing several behind them to get tangled in the falling bodies. Hands grabbed my arms and pulled me to one side. Looking up I saw Thapa returning fire with his Mfw. Ghale let go of me and slammed the door shut and locked it. Just then Jere and Kraig came running down the hallway.
"What happened?" Kraig asked.
"Bishan has abou
t twenty of his thugs attacking the ship," I said. "A well-planned surprise using customs."
"You’re bleeding," Kraig said while lifting my arm for inspection. "Left side."
"Leave it. Retreat to the intersection of the main entrance," I said. "The hallway is too narrow for them to rush us more than two at a time." We had just reached the intersection when the door to the cargo area flew open, the lock shattered.
The first two in died instantly. Two of the next four managed to find cover to support his friends. Slowly eleven of the group managed to gain entrance inside the ship, firing as they leapfrogged their way up the hallway.
I tapped three times on my tablet then put my hand over my mouth and nose while looking at each of my team. I felt a stab of pain as I realized everyone looked to have at least one area soaked with blood. I tapped the gas icon and began to count, thinking it would take thirty seconds to take effect but wondering how effective it would be with the door to the cargo area open and the cargo area open to the outside. The effect was better the farther the individual was from the cargo area. Four of the closest to us fell into the hallway and were immediately shot. A couple further away staggered into the closest room and, I assume, passed out, as the shooting slowly decreased to random shots.
Then I heard noise at the main entrance and signaled everyone to retreat to the Flight Deck. I shut the door and switched on the ship’s monitors just as the entrance was breached. I activated the hallway lasers and several of the initial attackers died before the ones behind them could locate and disable them. I waited as the group of about ten gathered in the hallway, discussing their next move, and touched the firecracker icon. The Tykhe shook as the hallway ceilings exploded downward. I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The scene made me throw up. Bodies lay torn and mangled together like they had been inside a giant blender. The walls had blood and flesh splattered on them. It was a scene I doubted I'd ever get out of my head. Still gagging I stepped over bodies, trying not to slip on the gore that lay everywhere. I carefully inspected every room to ensure no one remained alive. I found three who had apparently passed out from the gas and had taken refuge in a room or the galley. Thankfully the Gurkhas shot them. I doubt I could have to save my life. Kraig had the sense to herd us into the ship’s medical station. Everyone had two or more wounds. Several hours later, when everyone had been treated, I called security.
"What happened," a silver haired man with colonel rank asked, as he stood in the entrance with the entrance hatch door hanging half off its hinges.
"You didn't hear twenty men attacking one of the ships in your secure area?" I asked, knowing they did but chose to ignore it for one reason or another.
"We don't like to interfere in gang wars." The colonel had the nerve to smile.
"This wasn't a gang war. The Black Hand chose to attack an honest merchant." I tried to shout but I was exhausted and my voice more a squeak than a shout.
"Why would the Black Hand attack an honest merchant?"
"Why does the Black Hand kidnap innocent people and hold them for ransom, or kidnap young women for sex trafficking, or conduct contract killings? Or don't you like to get involved in those either?" I knew my rant was pointless. They had taken the same attitude when my father was killed. Rim logic—good riddance to bad rubbish.
"You wish to make a complaint?" he asked, trying to look serious.
"Judging by your lightening response to an invasion in your secure area, I would imagine I'd be an old lady by the time I got a response," I said, resigned to the Rim response.
"Probably dead of old age," he said and waved his men to leave. "Good job, Zen."
Watching him and his men striding away, I had to laugh. As I had told Kraig, Rim logic is different than Central Systems logic.
CHAPTER THRTY-FOUR
Star System: Samxor – The Hunter
Jere left the medical unit while Kraig was attending to Zen. Bishan’s strategy had been a good one, Jere mused as he stopped to grab a change of clothes in his room, which was only slightly damaged, mostly from shrapnel that had entered the room through the blown door. He then proceeded down the hallway and through the Thkhe's mangled entrance. He thought Bishan might have won if he had known about the antipersonnel gadgets the ACS had added to the Tykhe. He hadn't and had chosen to throw everyone available on Samxor into the attack, and correctly surmised security wouldn't interfere until after it was over. In fact, they still hadn't appeared. Rim logic: why interfere if criminals want to kill each other. It didn't make sense to put your men's lives in harm's way to save their lives—that was ridiculous Central Systems logic.
Jere opened the door to the first taxi in the queue and stepped in. He felt weak. Wounds to his shoulder, side, and leg were throbbing with pain but he felt on an adrenaline high. Tonight would be a turning point in his life. Tonight the infamous Hunter—the ghost assassin—would disappear forever, to be replaced by… He wasn't sure but he knew he would be following someone with ethics. Someone he could admire. Zen was a criminal by society's standards but the kind of person who would never intentionally harm anyone and could be trusted. And the White Hand would do much to reduce violent crime in the Rim, and the reason she had the unofficial support of the ACS. He laughed. Her life and well-being were important and he would do his best to see her safe. By the time the taxi reached the Haven Club, he had changed clothes and given the cabbie an extra ten credits to get rid of the bloody and torn clothing.
The outside of the Haven looked much like the entrance to a small church, with its baroque façade and twin bell towers. And that impression didn't change when you entered. The place was as quiet as a church. Tables were arranged in alcoves that ensured maximum privacy both from view by a privacy screen, and from listening devices by a white noise that interfered with bugs and other such devices.
To enter, everyone had to pass through a scanning device to ensure no weapons were inside the main room. The Haven was a sanctuary where enemies could meet with safety. Violence was not only forbidden but violators punished by contract if necessary. Jere, the Hunter, had carried out two such contracts over the years.
"How may I help you, sir?" asked the older of the two women, a tall shapely brunette, as he approached the counter. She looked a bit apprehensive and rightly so, as she didn't have the normal two-man security team present.
He surrendered his Mfw at the desk, noting that there were only two women at the desk and no security backup. Bishan had been taking no chances and had sent every available thug to the Tykhe. Probably deciding he could handle any trouble that might arise at the club. Bishan stood just over one hundred ninety centimeters tall and had in his youth been a cage fighter and gun for hire before joining the Black Hand. His no-nonsense approach and psychopathic nature resulted in his eventual rise to the leadership ranks.
"I'd like a two-person booth," Jere said, acting like any prospective customer wanting a secure place to conduct business in guarantied privacy.
"Five hundred credits," she said. He gave her a prepaid card from which she deducted the fee. "Identification?"
"Peters," he said. She didn't want his real name, just something to enter into her register, and the name he was using if someone wanted to find him.
"Thank you, Mr. Peters. Please surrender any weapons you have before entering the scanner. Since he hadn't brought any other weapons, at least ones the scanner would consider a weapon, he walked into the scanner and stood. After a few seconds she spoke. "Thank you, Mr. Peters. Your booth is number 171. Lillian will show you to your booth and answer any questions you have." The other woman, a younger blonde, smiled and waved for him to follow her. Jere knew Bishan's had a large booth approximately in the middle of the room and that room 171 was toward the end, near to the bar and food preparation area. He waved for her to precede him. She nodded and began walking with him following. As they approached Bishan's booth, Jere noticed his privacy screen was open. And as they neared the opening Bishan sat alone, a Mfw on the table n
ear his right hand and a tablet in the center. He appeared relaxed but he was intently scanning the room and watching the tablet, probably for status from his lieutenants. His eyes flashed to Lillian and his right hand tensed as she came into view, but he quickly relaxed.
Jere's hand reached into his shirt pocket for what looked like a pen, removed it with his thumb and forefinger, and folded it into his palm. Bishan appraised Jere as he came into view but dismissed him as quickly—obviously a customer who had been scanned, as he was with Lillian. As his gaze returned to the room, Jere's arm swung across his body in a one hundred eighty-degree arc, his hand released the steel pen-like object, and then opened it in what would be seen as a friendly wave. The pen struck Bishan's left eye and penetrated well into his brain. He slumped backward as Lillian and Jere continued walking past the booth. When they reached the booth designated 171, Lillian spent five minutes explaining the privacy features and how to order drinks and food.
"And although it is very unlikely Haven's security will be breached, an emergency protocol will be initiated. In that case the lights will blink on and off and all the emergency doors will be unlocked for you to exit relatively unseen. The emergency exits are located in the hallway behind these booths." She pointed to a door behind the booth just as the lights began blinking on and off. Jere rose and left the booth through the back, walked down the hallway to an open door, and exited the club. He assumed someone had found Mr. Bishan.
CHAPTER THRTY-FIVE
Star System: Samxor
"I owe Clyde and the team at the no-name asteroid big time. Without their gadgets we'd all be dead," I said the next morning as we gathered in the galley. "I know I should visit Bishan, but quite frankly I don't think we’re in any shape for a confrontation with him…and I'm tired of killing. I had hoped that Bishan's body would have been one of the attackers we killed. Since he wasn't it means more fighting, more killing, more casualties," I said, not wanting to admit some of my team could die. I was beginning to think I should have taken Kraig's advice and either retired with Shadi or became a merchant in the Central Systems. But retribution had driven me even more after I learned how the Black Hand had not only killed my father but had used me to support them. And the idea of making the Rim a less violent place had a storybook appeal. I was a child of the Rim and wouldn't be happy any place else. Too late for second thoughts, I mused. I had to finish what I started or die trying.