Susan reached the intercom and pushed the button. “Any communication from them?” she asked.
“No, but they are heading straight for us. There’s no way they could have already picked us up on their scanners. They had to know we were here.” He paused and then added, “Want me to come down there?”
“No,” Susan said quickly. “Stay there in case they try and contact us. Once the ship sets down then come to the hold on the double.”
“Roger that,” Adam said and clicked off.
Susan turned to face the rest of the crew. It was a rather sorry lot that looked back.
Kyle, Molly, and Eve all held Keppano carbines, although the guns did look out of place in their hands. They had all passed minimum certification with the guns, but that just meant they knew enough not to shoot themselves in the foot. Well, Susan hoped that they knew better than to accidentally shoot themselves—it wasn’t a guarantee.
She could sense Kyle and Molly’s fear, but they were doing a good job of hiding it. The only clue was that Molly was breathing fast—shallow but fast.
Eve was the only one of the three who seemed calm. Perhaps her calmness was due to her being nearly sixty. Susan imagined that she had seen a lot in her days. Her son had died in front of her several months back when the Miram Union had arrested her. After seeing something like that, how bad could this be?
Susan nodded to the three of them. “To your places,” she said simply, then added, “and put your jackets on. It’s about to get very cold in here.”
They nodded and disappeared into the hold.
She and Terry were armed with two Logan handguns each. Terry was to stand near the cargo bay door and operate it as needed. That placed him on the left side of the cargo bay, which would also put him behind any of the smugglers that came aboard. If this turned into a fight, then Susan wanted to catch the men in a crossfire. Terry didn’t wait to be told, but instead turned and headed toward the cargo bay ramp.
Susan was impressed with the engineer. He wasn’t showing any signs of nervousness; rather he appeared determined.
Russell and Jessica each had a Logan handgun, but they had also stashed one of the Keppano carbines within reach. Russell was to remain near Susan, but Jessica had taken up position to the right along the far wall of the cargo hold.
Grady was also here, but Susan had ordered him to remain farther back in the hold behind one of the pallets of fish they had taken aboard on Fort Wade. He was not armed . . . well, except for the wicked-looking claws and fangs.
Susan and Russell moved up closer to the cargo bay door and stood waiting patiently. Susan slipped a thick jacket on, pleased to see that Russell was already wearing his. She sensed the group of men outside just before the buzzer rang. The buzzer was loud and jarring, but Susan didn’t jump—she had been expecting it.
There was a noise of running footsteps and Susan glanced to her left.
Adam emerged from the passage carrying a carbine. He nodded at her and then took up position beside Terry.
Susan glanced at Terry. He had his hand on the cargo bay door controls, but was waiting for her approval. She took a deep breath and nodded her head.
Terry pressed a button, and the door began to descend. The door opened slowly, descending until it finally came to rest against the cold metal of the landing pad.
Even before the door was completely open, a rush of freezing air blew over them. The wind was blowing outside, and snowflakes began wafting into the ship’s hold. Susan ignored them, as she focused her gaze on the fifteen men standing just short of the ramp.
Chapter 20
Susan recognized Peter from Fort Wade, but he wasn’t in the forefront. Instead, an older man had the place of prominence. The older man had black hair that was streaked with gray and a close-cut beard. He was a hard-looking man, and he regarded Susan and Russell through dark, unblinking eyes.
When the ramp completed its lowering, the older man began climbing up toward the ship’s hold. Irritation burst through Susan that the old bastard hadn’t requested permission first.
She could sense that this man was dangerous, and she could also sense an excited expectation from Peter.
Peter and the rest of the men followed the older man up the ramp. The entire group was wearing heavy coats, but every one of them was armed. Some had rifles strung over their shoulders, while others wore pistols on their hips. This was a tough bunch of men, and for the first time Susan found herself wishing that Eric and Thomas were still here. It would have helped to even the odds.
The old man pulled up short, maybe five feet from Susan. He looked her and Russell over for a moment, then said, “My name is Conrad Nichols and I hear you gave Peter some trouble on Fort Wade.”
Susan glanced to Peter, who was smiling at her. “Oh,” she said, “is that what the little bastard said?”
That wiped the smile off of Peter’s face and he took a step forward, nearly snarling. He froze and glanced down as a red dot appeared on his chest. After a moment, he began to slowly turn his head, looking for the source. He found it a moment later when he spotted Kyle laying on the racks on the left side of the hold. Kyle was sprawled out, maybe twenty feet above the floor, and he was sighting down the length of the carbine; he was ready to shoot at a moment’s notice.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Conrad said slowly, “we have you outnumbered.”
A red light appeared in the middle of Conrad’s chest and he slowly raised his eyes. He found the source when he spotted Eve on the opposite side of the hangar from Kyle. She, too, was watching him through the sights of her gun.
There was a deep growl from out in the snow and something bounded up the ramp. It was not human, but it was in the shape of a man. The humanoid seemed feline; hairy, with long claws and fangs. The creature stopped just behind Conrad and howled, all the while keeping its eyes on Susan.
The creature’s howl was returned, not from the exterior of the ship, but from farther in the cargo hold.
Grady emerged from his hiding place and tipped his head back, his deep roar of challenge startling everyone.
Peter and the men behind him all dropped their hands to their pistols. Those with rifles slipped them from their shoulders.
Out of the corner of her eye, Susan could see Adam, Terry, and Jessica raising their weapons. With a start, Susan even realized her hand rested on her own pistol. Events were spiraling out of control and she had to rein things back in.
“Hold!” Conrad bellowed at the same time that Susan shouted, “Wait!”
Everyone in the hangar froze. It seemed that everyone had their hands on their weapon while their eyes frantically shifted around.
“We outnumber you,” Peter said, staring straight at Susan. “Surrender your guns unless you want to die.”
“If this turns into a fight,” Susan snarled, “you and this old bastard die first.”
For a moment Susan thought she might have pushed the little punk too far. She suddenly became convinced that Peter would draw his gun over her insult. That could not happen—if it did, then many would die needlessly.
“Stop, I said!” Conrad bellowed loudly. His words didn’t have much influence with Susan or her crew, but they did have a calming effect on his men.
Susan chose to ignore Peter for the moment and focused her attention on Conrad. He, at least, appeared to agree with her that they did not need a firefight. He was staring at her as well.
“Is this what you want?” Conrad asked. “Do you want to die?”
Susan shook her head. “No, do you?”
Conrad didn’t answer right away, he just watched her. “Perhaps I underestimated you,” he said.
“Maybe,” Susan agreed, shrugging. “It’s not of much importance right now. I see two ways that we can move forward.” Susan held up a finger. “You can give me my PG and I give you the money—everybody wins, or,” she held up a second finger, “we can kill each other.”
“Or three,” Peter said angrily, “we c
an kill you and take the PG and the credits.”
Susan smiled. “Perhaps, although I assure you that you won’t be able to enjoy it when you’re dead. But there’s one thing you forgot in that little scenario.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” Peter demanded.
Susan smile disappeared and she began to look angry. “You’d be ripping off Reginald Bailey and I don’t think even you would be that fucking stupid.”
The comment caught Peter off guard. On the one hand he seemed to want to swell up in anger, but the mention of Bailey’s name seemed to deflate him. He was caught in a comical half-angry, half-scared posture.
“Peter,” Conrad said slowly, “take Karrara and return to our ship. Wait for us there.”
Peter didn’t answer immediately. His face flushed red and his eyes bulged as he stared at Conrad’s back. For a moment it seemed that he might refuse.
Conrad turned to look at him, and that was all it took. Peter dropped his eyes and nodded. He took a step toward the ramp and whistled softly. He had to stop and whistle again and it took a moment, but the furry humanoid slowly turned and followed him down the ramp.
Susan watched them go for a moment, and then turned to find Conrad watching her.
“I find you beginning to try my patience,” he said.
Anger flared up within Susan and that was surprising. She was normally so good at keeping her emotions under control. “I begin to try your patience,” she repeated softly. “You have worn my patience out, between you and that,” she waved her hand in the direction that Peter had gone, “little shit.”
“That little shit is my son and I see now why he doesn’t like you.”
“He doesn’t like me because I refused to pay him for the drugs before I got them,” Susan retorted. She was fighting to keep her tone under control. She couldn’t afford for this to escalate again.
Her words caught Conrad by surprise. “What?” he said. “What are you talking about?”
“Peter wanted the credit voucher while we were still on Fort Wade. He wanted me to give him Bailey’s money before I even saw the drugs.” She paused and then added, “What do you think Bailey would have to say about that?”
Conrad didn’t answer immediately. His eyes narrowed and he appeared to be searching for a way to turn things around. “I can see how that would be a mistake,” Conrad admitted grudgingly. “But—”
“And,” Susan said, raising her voice to speak over Conrad, “I get sent to some out-of-the-way world that I’ve never heard of and that was not in the job description. I was told I would get the drugs on Fort Wade, not Caval VII. I considered returning to Bailey and telling him you screwed him.”
Conrad paled visibly. “But—”
“Then we get to this shitty, little world and you make us wait. Then you show up with this motley-looking bunch of men trying to intimidate us, not to mention that fucking cat-boy thing.”
“Enough!” Conrad snapped. “I get it. You don’t like the way this deal went down. Too fucking bad. It’s a job and nothing ever goes according to the plan, but we’re here now, so let’s get this shit over and done with.”
“Fine,” Susan agreed. “Where are my fucking drugs?”
“Where’s my fucking money?” Conrad shot right back. His face was flushed and his lips were pulled back, exposing his teeth.
Susan sighed deeply. “I will not give you the money until I have the drugs.” Her anger seemed to be slipping away, while Conrad appeared to be getting angrier.
“And I won’t give you the drugs until I get the money,” Conrad said, nearly shouting.
“I have an idea,” Russell said quietly.
Conrad turned to regard Russell, but Susan kept her eyes forward. “What is it?” she asked.
“Decrypt the credit voucher and give it to Conrad,” Russell said.
Susan blinked in surprise and turned to stare at Russell.
Conrad’s eyes widened momentarily and then he smiled. “Finally, an intelligent member of your crew.”
Susan opened her mouth to ask a question, but Russell waved her to silence.
“Once Conrad has confirmed the voucher, his crew will load the PG,” Russell continued while Conrad nodded his head. “He will remain in the cargo hold with the voucher,” Russell said, his tone losing some of its cheeriness. “If he leaves the hold, or there’s something wrong with the PG, then we shoot him in the fucking head.”
“Wait just a minute!” Conrad began, taking one step forward. The little red dot appeared in the middle of his chest again. Conrad stopped walking and slowly looked up to where Eve was aiming her carbine at him.
Susan was impressed and relieved. She had thought that Russell was losing his mind for a moment, but she suddenly found herself loving his plan. She also loved the coolness that Eve was displaying. The woman stared unflinching at Conrad and the red dot from her sight wasn’t moving or bobbing at all.
Conrad slowly took one step back. “No deal,” he said simply.
Susan smiled. Conrad was putting a brave face forward, but she could tell that he was feeling the pressure. His men had to be paid and he did not want to piss Bailey off.
“That’s the deal,” she said. “Take it or you and your men can deal with an angry Reginald Bailey.”
Conrad was silent for a moment. “Fine,” he finally said through clenched teeth. “But once this is over, you’d better hope that I never see you again.”
Susan’s only answer was a smile.
Susan glanced over to the side where Conrad stood clenching the credit voucher. She could tell that the man would gladly kill her, but she didn’t think he would try anything until this job was over. He most certainly did not want to piss off Bailey. People who angered Bailey had a way of disappearing, and Conrad did not want to be one of them. So instead, Conrad stood there with the anger and hate rolling off him—it was so strong she didn’t need her telepathic abilities to sense it.
About half of Conrad’s men had exited the ship at a wave from Conrad. The remaining men stood near the ramp, glaring around at Susan’s crew. They were still trying to be intimidating, but the affect was minimized by their boss having a targeting dot on his chest.
The men knew their boss had come off the worse for this meeting and Conrad knew they knew. It was another reason Susan knew he wanted to kill her. Strangely, it gave her a feeling of satisfaction.
There was a rumbling sound, and Susan looked out the opening into the snow. She didn’t expect any kind of trick. She hadn’t sensed any type of deception in Conrad’s men as they left, but it was always possible.
The snow seemed to be falling faster now. The sun was far away from Caval and it had been murky even in the middle of the day. The sun was setting now and the temperature was dropping.
The rumbling got louder and two lights appeared out of the darkness. They had the look of transports and Susan shot a glance at Conrad. He hadn’t moved and neither had the targeting dot. Conrad stared out into the darkness. He was still angry, but now it was tempered with relief.
She turned back to the darkness. The two lights had indeed resolved into two small transports—five metal crates riding on the back of each transport. In addition, two men in exo-suits rode on one of the transports’ bumpers.
The transports turned around and backed up the ramp. It only took a few minutes to get the cargo unloaded, and then ten crates sat on the deck. Conrad’s men were watching her.
Susan glanced in Russell’s direction. “Check `em out,” she called.
“Do you actually think I would be stupid enough to cheat Reginald Bailey?” Conrad asked, his words carrying across the deck.
“Yes,” Susan said simply, barely glancing at Conrad. She still saw his body stiffen in anger. She knew better. She shouldn’t continue to anger this man, but she couldn’t help herself. He had walked aboard her ship like he owned it, and she was enjoying showing him that he was in the wrong. Although, she had to admit that she wouldn’t want to meet Conrad in a dark a
lley. She could easily believe that he would kill her given half a chance.
“It’s all here,” Russell said. “Everything is as it should be.”
His words pulled Susan’s attention back to the here and now.
“Satisfied?” Conrad asked.
Susan smiled. “Yes. Now please get off my ship.”
Conrad stared at her for a moment and then looked down. The targeting dot was gone and he nodded his head once. He shot one more angry look in Susan’s direction and then stalked down the ramp.
Chapter 21
It’s a beautiful day to kill someone, Aaron thought as he stared out the small hole toward Hilltop. The sky was clear and a bright blue. It was warm, but not overly so, and the wind was almost non-existent. He had feared that it would be an overcast, rainy day, or that perhaps there would be gale-force winds, but neither fear had materialized.
Four days ago, the security around Hilltop had been impressive; if anything, the security had been increased. Scores of heavily armed security guards roamed the grounds and the neighboring streets. Specialized detectors had been installed at the entrances and every guest was being forced to endure being scanned. It was like some foreign dignitary was attending instead of a bunch of crime lords.
Guests had been arriving for over an hour now and the number of guests appeared to be increasing. There was a line of people waiting to get through the detectors, but Aaron hadn’t seen anyone of importance yet, and he hadn’t sighted his target, but it was still early. He lowered the monocular and rested his head against the rafter.
Aaron had killed plenty in the war but never with a sniper’s rifle, and he was beginning to have second thoughts. It wasn’t that he felt Woodson didn’t deserve it—he was quite sure the man deserved it as much as anybody. His problem was that he didn’t feel right about being the man’s judge, jury, and executioner. It was one thing to look a man in the eyes and shoot him before he shot you, but it was quite another to kill a man from afar, especially at his daughter’s wedding. Everything just seemed so wrong with this job. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate—it felt sort of right, but still dirty. Justifiable, but still wrong was the best way he could describe it.
Kill Shot: A Remnant of the Commonwealth, Book Two Page 16