by C. J. Barry
Cidra rocked on her feet. One look at Plass’ pale face told her that this was not part of the plan. Fiske had betrayed them.
Stoll grinned like a lunatic at Plass. “You failed. You should have checked out your crew more thoroughly. Lieutenant Fiske works for me."
Plass continued to stare tight-lipped at Fiske. “You've seen the evidence yourself. How can you deny the facts?"
The young Lieutenant snorted. “I don't know how you live with those high moral standards you have. Did it ever occur to you that I don't care how Tausek came to power? I have my own position to think about."
"You bastard,” Grey snarled. He dove forward and head-butted Fiske in the stomach. They both hit the wall with a resounding thud.
"Grey, stop it,” Cidra shouted. Fiske gripped Grey by the shirt and pinned him back against the wall.
Drawn by her outburst, Stoll turned his full attention to Cidra as he took a slow walk around her. The hair stood up on the back of her neck.
"A live Faulkner. Tausek will be most pleased to see you.” He stopped in front of her, his gaze drifting down her body.
Cidra felt the chill descend over her. Although he was inches from her, she couldn't feel any warmth emanating from him. The cold blue eyes that met hers had no depth.
"Most pleased,” he repeated slowly. Cidra froze under his lurid gaze.
He spun around and motioned to two of the guards. “Take Plass to the detention center. The prisoners will accompany me to Tausek's tower."
Fiske stood at attention next to Stoll. “Request permission to join you, sir. I would like very much to see this mission through to the end."
Stoll nodded and walked out of the room.
* * * *
"It's showtime, gents. Mind your manners now,” Rourke said as he released the hatch door of the transport. He took one step out of the craft onto the landing bay platform on Dakru and came face to face with the spitting end of a laser rifle.
"Howdy, boys.” He grinned wide at two stone-faced entry guards. Decker and Barrios exited behind him.
The transportation center they had been directed to on their entry into the Capital City bustled with activity. An astonishing assortment of species and races crammed the landing bay, most looking destitute. The smells of food cooking close-by wafted above the stench of body odor. The landing bay must have been impressive once, but signs of decay appeared everywhere: cracked and broken windows, the floor indistinguishable under the layers of dirt, the walls lined with beggars and thieves.
From amid the madness, the Head security officer appeared and demanded to see their IDs. As he verified them in the security system, another guard began a man-to-man body search.
"You boys don't talk much, do you?” Rourke persisted as the guard roughly frisked him.
The Head security guard glared at him. “Quiet. Your identification checks out.” He motioned to a pair of armed guards. “These are your escorts for the duration of your stay on Dakru."
He addressed the guards. “Shuttle them to the stage area and their quarters.” Handing the ID's back, he said matter-of-factly. “You will be shot if you are caught without escorts."
"Their welcome committee could use some work,” Barrios muttered to Rourke as the Head security guard disappeared into the crowd without another word.
They boarded the small, fully enclosed shuttle with the guards taking positions in the front. Rourke and Decker sat behind them, with Barrios in the rear just in front of the band's equipment and luggage.
The shuttle leapt forward and exited the landing bay structure. Dakru spread out before them. The dismal view didn't get any better. Even at this time of the morning, it was a dark, solemn city. Rundown one- and two-story buildings crowded the litter-lined streets. The inhabitants looked like walking dead, their faces and eyes sunken as they moved along in slow motion.
Barrios grimaced. “What a pit."
Decker whispered back to him. “Imagine what it looked like before they cleaned it up for the big celebration."
Pointing to pictures of Tausek plastered on every structure, Barrios said, “At least we know what the arrogant bastard looks like."
Rourke caught Decker's eye and discreetly slipped the concealed Flint laser pistol from his jacket. He had lifted it when they transferred the equipment. Decker smiled back and slipped his own out.
Rourke leaned over and whispered, “At the next stop, you take the one on the right. I'll take the one on the left."
The shuttle had barely halted at an intersection when Decker and Rourke leapt forward, each getting a headlock on a guard and pressing the Flint pistols to their heads. The stunned, wide-eyed guards were then yanked up and out of their seats, restrained and gagged in a matter of minutes.
Rourke jumped into the front seat and took control of the transport leaving Decker to quiet the guards.
Barrios whistled. “Nice work, boys. Now what?"
Decker reached around and dug the tracker unit out of the band equipment behind him. “Now we find them.” He activated the unit once he located it and jumped into the front seat beside Rourke. He began a sweep of the city as the shuttle lurched forward with Rourke at the controls.
"According to this, they are moving due south. You need to take the next right, Rourke,” Decker told him.
"Got it.” Rourke whipped the shuttle crisply around the next corner.
Decker concentrated on the tracker unit and frowned. “This can't be right. According to this, they are underneath us."
Barrios piped up, “What did you do, Rourke? Run them over?"
"Back seat navigator,” Rourke muttered.
"I'm serious. They are right below us,” Decker insisted. Then he jumped up. “They turned off, due south."
"What? Where?” Rourke slammed a fist on the console. “What is going on?"
Rourke suddenly pulled the transport over and turned it off.
Decker looked at him in disbelief. “What are you doing? They're getting away."
Rourke ignored him and pointed at small, guarded building on the corner of the next intersection. “What do you make of that? There was a similar one a few blocks back."
"Too small to be of any practical use,” Decker thought aloud. “Maybe a control center or part of a security grid.” He glanced around and frowned. “It might be used to access something underground."
"With an armed guard standing watch?” Rourke asked. “Must be some real special infrastructure down there. Wouldn't you say?"
Rourke and Decker looked at each other and grinned.
* * * *
Cidra tried to take in as much of the underground layout as possible while the shuttle whisked silently down one side of the wide tunnel toward Tausek's tower. She spotted Stoll riding in the shuttle in front of them and shuddered involuntarily at the thought of such a cruel man wielding so much power.
Wedged between Grey and Lieutenant Fiske in the center seats of the shuttle, she could only glimpse an occasional intersecting passageway in the endless and monotonous underground world. She wondered where in this maze Plass was. Despite his role in her past, he had earned her respect and her concern. His fate was now as grim as their own.
Cidra tried to push the desperation of their situation to the back of her mind. It proved a futile effort. Without Fiske, the entire plan was ruined. They had trusted him implicitly with the communications, making him a critical link in the plan to broadcast Tausek's confession. She couldn't believe she had been so completely deceived. But the moment he had taken his position next to Stoll, she had watched the youthful, innocent face turn hard and cold. His whole body had matured in a flash. Only now could she see the years in his eyes.
Maybe Grey was right. Trust was an illusion.
Next to her, Lieutenant Fiske abruptly fumbled with the micropad he was reviewing and it fell to the shuttle floor beside her foot. He bent low over her knee to pick it up. She froze as his hand slid under her pants and slipped something cool and flat inside her boot. He
retrieved the micropad and straightened in his seat, turning his attention once again to the unit as if nothing had happened.
Cidra stared straight ahead in stunned disbelief and fought the overwhelming urge to look at him. Instead, she wiggled her foot slightly to verify her suspicions. It felt like the tiny comm unit that Plass had showed them on Expunger. The unit that Major Fiske was supposed to give her before their meeting with Tausek. Could it be that he had not betrayed them after all?
Another thought crushed her elation. It could also be a simple explosive device. Maybe Fiske planned to blow them all up and blame Tausek's death on her in some sinister plan to make Stoll the next ruler of Dakru.
Out of the corner of her eye, she slid him a cautious glance, but his demeanor was detached and stoic.
A sliver of hope glowed. It was all she had to cling to.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Decker stood watch in the underground tunnel as Barrios leaned against the wall behind him and wheezed. “Who thought this was a good idea? In case you hadn't noticed, my running days are over."
"Keep it down. We don't need any company right now,” Decker whispered over his shoulder. “I can't see a thing, and there's no cover in this corridor. When Rourke comes back from reconnaissance with a clear sign, we're off again."
Suddenly, a laser blast and a small explosion filled the corridor. Barrios jumped. “What was that?"
Decker swore, lowering his pistol. Smoke drifted from the scattered pieces of the Servo-unit he'd just shot. The smell of burnt wiring filled the air.
"It came up behind me so fast, I thought it was a guard,” he explained, holding his hands up helplessly.
Barrios gaped at him. “A half-meter tall guard? And since when have guards whizzed along sucking dirt off the floor?"
Decker shot him a scathing look. “Hey, be grateful I was covering your big butt."
Then he froze as footsteps approached. He turned back around, leveled his weapon and waited.
Rourke emerged from the darkness almost on top of them. He raised his eyebrows at the laser pistol aimed at his midsection. Breathlessly he held up a hand. “Easy, Decker. Don't get tight on me now."
Decker lowered the weapon and frowned. “Sorry. This place is getting too busy. Next time, whistle first."
Rourke looked down at the charred remains of a Servo-unit and turned to them with a look of disbelief. “I leave you boys alone for a minute and you start terrorizing small, defenseless cleaning equipment. New rule. No shooting unless the enemy comes up to your knees."
Decker hung his head. “This is going to be all over the galaxy, isn't it?"
Rourke smiled wide. “You got that right. I haven't had a good story for the saloons in a long time."
"Do you think they'll miss this one?” Decker looked down at the smoldering metal.
Rourke snorted. “I doubt it. There's about a million of those things down here."
Decker's expression brightened. “So what did you find?"
Rourke leaned back against the wall. “This corridor empties into a larger one about thirty meters down. Looks like pedestrian traffic only, lots of doors running along it. Can't tell the direction, but I'd guess it's east/west. No activity that I could see, so I checked out what would be the west branch. It intersects with a main artery—double lanes of motorized traffic. It was pretty busy, but I'd say that's our only option at this point unless you want to spend a lifetime down here trying to find another way. Sooner or later, that artery is going to hit something big."
"Just how extensive are these tunnels?” Decker gasped.
Rourke wiped sweat off his forehead. “Very. I'd say they run under the entire city."
"That would explain why none of the buildings are over a few levels tall. This underground infrastructure could never support them,” Decker surmised. “I'll bet the natives don't have a clue what's down here."
"That means that everyone we meet is going to be armed and dangerous,” muttered Barrios.
"Exactly right,” Rourke agreed. “Sounds like we have a borderline plan. Let's go."
Barrios asked, “Speaking of plans, what's the escape route for getting out of here once we find them?"
Decker looked at Rourke. “Well?"
Rourke put his hands on his hips. “Hey, I got us down here. I thought you were going to come up with getting us out."
Decker raised the tracker unit in self-defense. “Don't look at me. I'm in charge of navigation."
Barrios shook his head and lumbered down the corridor in disgust. “Forget it, just forget it. What was I thinking?"
They covered the first leg of their journey unspotted. A primary artery appeared exactly as Rourke had described. Rourke brought them to a halt behind a doorway as an occasional shuttle whizzed by. Traffic was light with a slow stream of shuttles and supply vehicles.
Rourke studied the traffic. “Looks like most of the shuttles run on timed intervals. They probably have pre-programmed destinations as well. Unless we want to walk all the way to the tower, we're going to have to steal a shuttle. One that's not on autopilot."
Decker groaned. “That means a driver. A driver means a weapon."
"Generally, yes,” Rourke said, his attention locked on a lone shuttle some distance away closing on them rapidly. “That's the one. Two guards in the front."
He nodded to Decker. “If you see a firearm, shoot. These guys are too good to mess around with. Here we go."
Barrios demanded, “How are you going to stop an armed shuttle?"
Without answering, the two men stepped out from the cover of the doorway together. Immediately, the shuttle driver raised a weapon. Rourke and Decker fired their laser pistols simultaneously. Rourke's blast struck the shuttle driver in the head. Decker's took out the guard on the passenger side. Without a driver, the small shuttle slowed to a stop almost at their feet. Only then did they notice another man in the semi-enclosed passenger section.
"Nice going.” Barrios grinned as he emerged from the doorway.
"Hold on,” Rourke warned, holding a hand up to stop him. “There's another one in the back."
He approached the man with his weapon raised. He could see through the open sides that the man wore wrist restraints.
"This is your stop,” Rourke told him.
Decker came around the side, took one look at the man he'd seen during his recent research into Dakru's files and leveled his weapon at the man's head.
"Plass,” Decker snarled.
Stunned, Rourke glanced at Decker. “Isn't this the man who captured them?"
"Yes,” Decker hissed. “At least I'll make sure he dies for that."
Before Decker could fire, Rourke put his hand on the end of the weapon and pointed it to the floor. Decker turned on him. “What are you doing?"
"Let's think about this first.” Rourke addressed Plass. “Why the restraints?"
"I am now an enemy of Tausek's. If you would give me a few minutes, I can explain the entire situation."
Rourke's head shot up, his eyes searching for what his ears could hear. “Incoming traffic. Get in. We need to move."
The men scrambled into the shuttle with Rourke at the controls and Barrios riding next to him in the cockpit section. Decker sat in the back with Plass. They accelerated quickly, putting distance between themselves and the shuttle behind them.
Decker checked his tracker unit. “The signal's not so good down here, but I think they are south of us. We need to take the right branch."
Then he turned to Plass. “You better have one good story or I'm going to feed what's left of you to the Servo-units."
* * * *
"How much further to the tower?” Rourke called back to Decker.
Decker checked their coordinates on his tracker unit and replied, “About a kilometer to go."
Barrios looked at Rourke. “Problem?"
Rourke shook his head and checked behind them for traffic. “The closer we get to that tower, the nastier it's going to become. D
o you have any idea what our chances are of finding them? Stone must be crazy. No woman is worth this kind of trouble."
Barrios grinned. “Jealous?"
Rourke snorted. “No. In fact—"
"Look out!” Barrios shouted, pointing to the left.
A bulky ground shuttle shot out of a side tunnel beside them, veering into their lane. Rourke jerked the controls hard to the right, but it was too late. The other vehicle caught their back end and knocked them into the side wall. The impact spun them around until they were facing the massive shuttle head-on. Braking thrusters roared as the big shuttle slid to a halt before them—nose to nose. Both sets of occupants were too surprised to do anything but stare.
Then Rourke bellowed, “What's the matter with you?” He pointed at the spot where Berman's shuttle had entered the main tunnel. “Can't you read the signs?"
Barrios nudged him hard. “Rourke, shut up. I don't think it's a good idea to piss them off."
Rourke rounded on him. “Why not? Those idiots could have killed us."
"That's why.” Barrios grimaced and nodded toward the other shuttle. No less than ten weapons were pointed at them as d'Hont poured from the rear entrance of the shuttle.
Breath hissed through Rourke's teeth. “Good point."
A clearly annoyed, very large man barked, “Kill them all and leave their bodies inside. Quickly and quietly."
Barrios muttered to Rourke, “Now would be a good time for a brilliant idea."
"Major Berman, that won't be necessary.” A voice came from behind him. Plass stepped out of the passenger section. The restraints were gone.
Berman blinked in surprise and smiled broadly. “Commander. Good to see you alive."
Plass grinned back. “It's been an interesting journey. The details can wait. We need to get moving before another shuttle comes along."
"What about them?” Berman pointed to Rourke, Decker, and Barrios who were exiting their disabled shuttle at gunpoint.
"Lower your weapons,” Plass ordered the d'Hont team surrounding them. He turned to Berman. “They will be joining the rescue. I have briefed them. They have agreed to the plan.” Plass nodded toward Berman's shuttle. “I can fill you in along the way."