The Last Spartan 2: DJ's Mission

by A. E. McCullough

  All and all, it was not a good day to run out of spice.

  Absolem finished reading the report and looked back at the monitor. “Are you sure the Red Falcon which is on his way to meet me is the real one and not the imposter?”

  The hooded figure that was Cheshire nodded. “For the third time, yes. My source is unimpeachable.”

  “Who’s your source?”

  “Spartan.”

  Absolem nearly dropped his pipe. “If he knows, then perhaps the Godfather knows.”

  Cheshire shook his head. “Spartan assured me that no one in the Cartel, other than you and I, are aware of the deception. He only alerted me since he considers the Red Falcon, which is on his way to meet you, a friend. He was hoping that you’d be considerate in your dealings with him. Call it a favor.”

  Absolem perked up at that. “Spartan would owe me a favor?”

  “No, I would. Spartan called in my favor which means I now owe you.”

  Absolem grumbled for a moment. It would’ve been extremely lucky to have Spartan owe him a favor but then, it wouldn’t be bad having another member of the Cartel owing him one either; especially since it wouldn’t really cost him anything. “Okay Cheshire, you have a deal.”

  “Many thanks Absolem. Let me know if you come up with a solution to our problem. I too will be looking for a remedy to the imposter.”

  Even as the monitor went dead, one of his slaves ran up with more bad news. The skimmer of the upstart Barney was just outside his compound. Absolem pondered the situation. If Barney was outside, maybe the godfather had sent him to test his resolve or even to displace him. But that didn’t make sense. He wasn’t behind on his payments to the Cartel nor was he close to his moult which was still two cycles away. Unsure of the reasons, he was sure of his response and ordered his slaves to prepare.

  Absolem set down his empty pipe and moved his considerable bulk into the adjacent room. As the black stretched skimmer pulled inside and powered down, Absolem spoke a word and the barrels of fifty guns pointed at the upstart’s vehicle.

  After a moment or two, both back doors popped open…

  * * * * *

  DJ knew his earlier guess had been correct judging from the fact that fifty guns were pointed at them. The two geometrids weren’t friends but rivals.

  Jax swallowed hard and studied the crime lord. He had to be fifteen feet long and much, much wider than the one they’d fought. This one’s carapace was a deep azure blue where the other one had been a light purple.

  “Falcon, are you sure about this?” Jax’s voice carried a hint of fear, which under the current circumstances was completely understandable.

  “Yes. My guess is that the grape caterpillar was trying to cut into the blue one’s turf. Follow the plan and everything will be fine.”

  “Are you sure.”

  “Nope but I don’t have many choices.”

  Jax forced a smile. “Aw hell, you can’t live forever.” Climbing into the back seat, he picked up the large case of Moonbeam spice. “Good to go.”

  With a nod, they both opened the back doors of the skimmer and DJ stepped out but kept one hand hidden inside. “Greetings Absolem, I bring gifts to curb your displeasure at this interruption.”

  About that time Jagger Jax stepped out and Absolem roared with rage. “How dare you bring that pirate here!”

  DJ looked over the roof of the skimmer and asked, “Did you forget to mention something?”

  Jax grimaced. “I guess he hasn’t forgotten about the time my crew raided his storehouse.”

  “Show him your gift.”

  Jax nodded and pulled out the crate of Moonbeam.

  Absolem roared. “You try to buy my favor with my own goods?”

  DJ shook his head. “No, we recovered your goods at great personal risk from…” he paused long enough to pull the severed head of the purple geometrid into view, “Barney.”

  Absolem’s yells of rage turned into shouts of joy. It was at this moment that DJ realized that Jax didn’t understand a word the caterpillar-like creature was saying since he was only wearing traditional body armor. Without the resident AI of the military-grade armor, such as his normal HAVOC or current CSA armor, the normal speech of the geometrid would only be a series of clicks and squeaks.

  DJ turned to his friend. “It’s alright, Absolem is cheering not raging.”

  The ex-pirate nodded and seemed to relax a bit.

  About that time, Absolem spoke again but this time in English. “Come Red Falcon...come Jagger Jax, come enjoy the hospitality of my house and bring my trophy. You have done me a great honor in bringing me the head of the upstart.”

  And just like that, the guns faded from view and the thugs went back to their duties. The giant blue worm turned and scuttled back to his throne room and the two hunters followed.

  When the crimelord was finally back in its throne, he turned back to them and asked. “Now name what can I, a humble businessman, do for you.”

  DJ began. “My current mark is protected by the local LEOs and no amount of data slicing will allow me to legally pick her up. But I don’t give up on my marks so easily; therefore I will snatch her without their blessing or help which will make it a kidnapping and that just so happens falls into your domain.”

  Absolem waited as one of his slaves, a young girl no older than twelve that was dressed in rags, loaded his qalyan with the rare spice. After a few puffs, his mood seemed to improve and he asked, “Why would a simple snatch and grab concern me?” He pointed at Jax. “His crew still does that on a regular basis.”

  “First off, Jagger Jax is no longer a pirate and hasn’t been one for many years. You can’t blame him for what they are doing now any more than I can blame you for…” DJ lifted the severed head of the geometrid, “his actions.”

  Absolem nodded. “That is a good point and one I hadn’t considered before but again, why would this concern me or why would you need my permission.”

  “There will be fallout from this pickup…my mark is Roger Thomas’ adopted daughter.”

  Absolem nearly dropped his pipe. “Wait…so if I give you permission you will hurt the Titan king?”

  DJ had never heard Admiral Thomas referred to that way but he could see how the title fit. When Absolem grinned, it was actually kind of creepy. The curve of the geometrid’s mouth was unnaturally long and several of his pointed teeth poked out.

  “Even without these gifts, I would’ve given you permission for that.” After a few more drags on the water pipe, Absolem continued. “However, we do have a problem that only you can rectify.”

  “And what is that?”

  “A fellow Cartel underboss and I were contracted to eliminate a certain Confederate General.”

  “I’m not hearing how this concerns me.”

  “The instrument of destruction we chose was you.”

  “But we’ve never…”DJ paused when it hit him that they had hired the imposter Falcon. “Now I understand. You hired my doppelganger and now that you have discovered that there are two of us, you want me to solve the problem for you.”

  Absolem nodded. “My associate warned me about hiring you, I mean him, but the price was right and his record of assassinations was solid.”

  Under his helmet DJ grimaced. Killing someone in combat or as part of a sanctioned military mission was one thing, it came with the job. But killing for credits was a horse of a different color.

  DJ shook his head. “You realize that I will not complete that contract. I’m a hunter not an assassin.”

  Absolem waved his four arms in a very human-like motion. “No, no, the contract is complete. However, it would be bad for business if it became common knowledge that there are two Red Falcons. In that case, the Godfather will order both of your deaths. I think it would be best that one of you is no longer among the living by the day after tomorrow.”

  “The day after tomorrow?”

  “Yes, that is when the Falcon is due to stand before me to claim his paym
ent.”

  DJ nodded. “I see.”

  “I’m not sure you do. At noon on the day after tomorrow, only one Falcon will be standing before me. That Falcon will receive a large pile of credits. If there happens to be another Red Falcon walking around at that time, he and all his companions will become open game for all Cartel members.”

  Both DJ and Jax nodded. They did understand. If the other Red Falcon wasn’t eliminated, then an open bounty would be placed on their heads and they wouldn’t be safe anywhere in the known universe. But DJ added, “We understand and thank you both for your permission and your warning.”

  Absolem waved one hand in what they took as a dismissive gesture and the two bounty hunters backed out of the room. Climbing back into their liberated skimmer, Jax fired it up and they exited the crimelord’s compound. Glancing in the rearview mirror he asked, “Where to?”

  DJ could barely suppress a yawn as he said, “We need to find some place to sleep. It sounds like tomorrow will be a long and busy day.”

  “You got it boss,” replied Jax and he turned down a different street. “I know just the place.”

  DJ sat back, content to let Jagger Jax find them a place to stay for the night.

  Chapter 14

  Commander Cline didn’t speak at all on the ride back to their hotel room or the elevator ride up to their adjoining rooms, nor did they speak once they entered the suites, instead they pulled out scanners. Silently and efficiently they detected five different listening devices in each room. The only good news was that they didn’t find any cameras.

  Not wanting to alert whoever was listening, they moved back to the main room and the Commander pulled out a mini sonic jammer and turned it on. “Okay, we have about sixty seconds before the sound bubble is detected.”

  Lt.. Evans nodded. “All right, judging from what I saw there is definitely something strange going on. First off, there are way too many deputies for the number of civilians in the whole Saturn system and the schedule they have them on is all wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sir, I have seen full commands in Strike with less personnel.”

  “Anything solid? That’s not enough to alert Command Staff or even the FSA about.”

  Virginia shook her head. “Not really. I did see a note calling for extra security for a transport which leaves at noon tomorrow.”

  “And why is that important?”

  “The destination listed was Haumea.”

  Alex whistled. Technically Haumea was a plutoid, the term given to dwarf planets that are beyond Neptune’s orbit. And if memory served, it had more of an ellipsoidal shape instead of the more common spherical shape of most planets. But more importantly, it was a location of a secret confederate base during the war. It was supposedly abandoned. So, why would a transport ship be going there?

  “That’s interesting.” Cline checked the timer on the sonic jammer, twelve seconds. “One more thing before time runs out…we need to have an argument and remember, I’m Alex not Commander.”

  Virginia cocked her head to the side. “Why are we fighting?”

  “They expect us to fool around but that would be inappropriate. Therefore if we argue, it will give credence to why we are sleeping in separate rooms.”

  The jammer’s timer flashed red three times before going dark. Without warning, Virginia slapped him. It wasn’t especially hard but it was loud. The next few minutes were filled with senseless arguments and accusations, anything from being unfaithful to her mother being a bad cook. It ended with Virginia throwing a vase against the wall, storming out of the main room and slamming the door. Of course, the whole time the two were smiling at each other and fighting the urge to laugh.

  Once the charade was over, Alex pulled out his portable computer and turned on the military-grade scrambler. It took nearly a minute for the scrambler to completely boot up but then, proper security was worth the wait. He typed up his report for his superior concerning his discoveries. Once complete, he hit the send button and began working on a second directive but this time for the flight of Dragons that should be floating in deep orbit nearby. There was a certain transport leaving Titan tomorrow that he wanted followed and if possible, boarded.

  Once more he checked his email to make sure he hadn’t received a change in orders or a new directive. There were none. Powering down the scrambler and his computer, Alex climbed into bed. He was certain that he would need the rest. Tomorrow promised to be a busy day.

  * * * * *

  The four-armed black skinned being plucked the encrypted messages from cyberspace and manually unscrambled the Coalition’s latest and most secure encryption. The being didn’t alter the message at all. It was for the sheer pleasure of the challenge and to help pad his already immense knowledge. However there was one slight variation he made, he copied the Commander’s messages and sent them, anonymously, to the High Councilwoman Teana Carpenter. This new information could prove interesting to his game.

  Then he turned his attention to the latest message from his favorite asset. It read: “Job for the Cartel is a go. Involves assisting the bounty hunter - Red Falcon - in kidnapping Roger Thomas’ daughter. Op is scheduled for tomorrow at midnight, local time. Recommendation on how to proceed required. Personal suggestion would be to see this OP thru but I await further orders. – El Gato”

  He read it once and then again, trying to ponder every implication and nuance of every word. He’d discovered that when dealing directly with the Terrans, he had to weigh every word. They don’t always say what they mean or mean what they say. It was both frustrating and invigorating. When he felt he truly understood all aspects of the expanding situation and how her situation fit into it, he sent back his response.

  * * * * *

  Once Teana Carpenter reached her hotel room, she quickly located the listening devices in her room and efficiently disabled them. She relished the knowledge that she was ticking someone off every second she was in the room and they would be unable to monitor them.

  When her SWAT escort was done with their security sweep, they posted up next to the only door and powered down, effectively going to sleep while standing up and while still on guard duty. It was a skill every military and law enforcement personnel developed, the ability to sleep just about anywhere at anytime. With the advanced biomechanics of the SWAT-TAC armor, which was only one step below full military grade armor, they only needed to come out of the armor once every seven days. At that time, the suit had to be completely powered down and its software rebooted or it would shut down on its own, trapping and suffocating the officer inside. This was a design flaw that had been corrected in the military-grade TAC armor. Given that this was a known problem, LEOs would rarely spend more than five days of constant wear before performing the reboot procedure, just in case.

  Of course, the High Councilwoman knew nothing of the problems or dangers with long exposure in TAC armor. Even with her years of service in the FSA, she had not had that much contact with the military. Her specialties had been diplomacy and espionage, which she used now to bypass the firewall of the hotel mainframe. She was curious exactly who was, or was supposed to be, watching them. It didn’t take long for her to back trace the signal to a sub-branch of the Saturn Sheriffs, most commonly referred to as the SIS – Saturn Intelligence Service.

  Officially, the SIS was the same as most police force’s Internal Affairs division. Tasked with the investigation of professional misconduct of Saturn’s LEOs but she knew better. They were, in all actuality, the secret police arm of the Sheriffs, doing the dirty work the line officers couldn’t or wouldn’t do and they reported directly to Kassinger.

  There wasn’t much, if anything legally that she could do with this knowledge but as they say, knowing is half the battle. Teana was pondering this latest development when a blinking icon came up on her computer. She had a message and not just any message, an encrypted message. Pulling out her portable scrambler, she attached it and booted it up. When it w
as ready, she opened her mail.

  After she read it once, she removed her glasses and wiped her eyes. Replacing her glasses, she read the report again. She recognized the author of the report but didn’t know why he was sending it to her. Although, if the information within was true, then tomorrow she and her escorts were walking into the proverbial lion’s den.

  Without considering the hour or the sensitive nature of the document, Teana spoke in a normal voice. “Spike.”

  SWAT Officer Tim “Spike” Ernspiker was instantly awake through a combination of the learned skill of light sleeping and the attentiveness of the AI in his suit. His AI gently prodded him awake with increasing jolts of pain straight to his nervous system. Using this method, it usually didn’t take long to wake up a sleeping officer.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Unaware of the pain his suit had inflicted on him, Teana leaned away from her computer screen and pointed at it. “I want you to read this.”

  Moving forward, the pain faded from his mind as Spike read the report. “Is this true?”

  Teana shrugged. “According to every trick I know, this file is legit. The only question is why would Commander Cline send it directly to me?”

  “Do you know this commander?”

  “Only by reputation, he was a Captain at the time though. He was the officer in charge of the Planetary Defense System when the Nemesis slipped past undetected in its rush to protect the President.”

  “And now he’s a commander?”

  “The military needed a scapegoat for their failures in the whole assassination attempt and Cline was convenient. But that is whole other subject.” She pointed at one area of the report. “What do you make of this?”

  “Haumea?” asked Spurgeon. Isn’t it some sort of uninhabited rock out past Pluto?”

  Teana nodded. “Supposedly but that really isn’t our concern, well not directly. I want you two to keep your eyes and ears open while we are on our tour tomorrow. If you see any sort of reference to the dwarf planet, I want you to alert me ASAP.”

  Spurgeon had to ask, “Why?”