Kill Shot: A Remnant of the Commonwealth, Book Two

by Williams, Christopher

  The door opened onto another large room, this one even bigger than the makeshift sleeping room. Unlike the other rooms and halls, several large spotlights sat on tripods, lighting the room up as good as the noonday sun would have.

  Gear was scattered all over the middle of the floor. Boxes and crates of all sorts, tables and chairs, and a large portable generator sat in the middle of the room. Two rows of three columns ran down the middle of the room to support the weight of the floors above. There appeared to be several small storage rooms or closets on the far side of the room. There weren’t any doors, just black doorways.

  Strapped to a long reclining chair was Eric. He looked even worse than Thomas had and seemed to be unconscious. Besides Eric, the room appeared to be empty.

  Aaron leaned his head in, checking both sides of the doorway carefully. He took a cautious step in and looked around again. He still held the Horace out in front, ready to fire if presented with a target.

  “How did you find us?” a man’s voice asked.

  Aaron, and the Horace, swiveled toward one of the small closets on the other side of the room. The voice sounded like it came from there.

  He crossed to the generator in the middle of the room and peered behind it, just in case. There was no one there.

  Aaron stepped around one of the large crates, limping visibly now. It wasn’t due to the pain—that was bad enough—but his left leg was failing to respond as he wanted.

  He paused on the far side of the equipment, closer to the closets than he was to the entrance. Something was wrong. Why would this man, this Will, give away his location so easily? It served no purpose to do so. Unless it was a diversion.

  A sound came not from the closet, but from back near the entrance to the room.

  Aaron tried to dive behind a large metal crate, but his leg failed him and he, more or less, collapsed to the ground.

  There was the sound of a plasmic discharging, and Aaron felt the heat as the plasma passed by overhead.

  He frantically began to crawl, trying to reach the safety of the crate. His left leg dangled now, almost completely useless. His left arm wasn’t much better. Pain erupted every time he put his weight on it, but Aaron didn’t care. He continued to use the arm to pull himself along. The pain meant he hadn’t been killed yet and that was something.

  Two more shots rang out. The first bounced off the concrete just to his right, and the second caught him in the side just below his raised right arm. The pain was excruciating and Aaron nearly passed out.

  Every nerve screamed at the pain and even the organic computer realized the seriousness of the wound. A part of him recognized that he had been shot with a low-power plasmic, must have been, or else it would have cut him in two.

  He managed to rollover clumsily, pulling the rest of his body out of the line of fire.

  Sweat poured from Aaron’s pores as his body tried to cope with the massive wound in his side.

  He laid his head back against the crate, gasping for breath. Miraculously, he hadn’t dropped the Horace, and he raised it as footsteps echoed as someone walked around the generator.

  His hand was shaking, but still he took careful aim. His attacker must have thought him either dead or close to it. It was still possible that he could die, but he could still kill this person first, perhaps even fulfill the program he had been given.

  A man stepped around one of the ceiling supports and then jumped back as Aaron shot at him. Unfortunately, Aaron missed. The shot blew a large hole in the support column.

  “Whoa!” the man called. “I thought you were dead, but I guess not quite yet.” There was a jovial tone in the man’s voice, almost gloating. “While we wait for you to die, let me introduce myself. My name is Colonel William Stone. I, like you, was once an officer in the Commonwealth army. Unlike you, I still hold that rank.”

  Aaron had propped himself up on his left arm to take the shot at Will, and the arm was now going numb. He slowly lowered himself back to the floor.

  “I was sent to find you and bring you back to the Commonwealth.”

  There was a pause, like Will expected Aaron to answer. Aaron had lowered himself back to the floor, but he still pointed the Horace pointed upwards. Will’s head peeked around the edge of the column, and Aaron squeezed off another shot, this one clipping the edge of the column and blowing away another small chuck.

  “Okay, okay,” Will called. He had jerked his head back out of harm’s way. “Just checking to see if you were still with me.”

  “Can’t have you running around on the loose,” Will said. “You’re too dangerous. If people found out what the CW did on that moon, well, let’s just say they would want to put all of us down. Kill us, if you catch my drift? They wouldn’t let any of us live. Not the yellow, deserting cowards like you, nor even the brave hero types like me.” There was another pause, and then he said, “You still with me? You know you really did a number when you fled that moon. Killed some of our best and brightest volunteers and destroyed a CW cruiser with all hands. What makes a man go traitor?”

  “They were killing us,” Aaron said. The tone of his voice was flat, monotone. If Susan, or any of the others from his crew, had heard him speak, they wouldn’t have believed it was Aaron talking.

  “Bullshit!” Will spat. “Why would they do that? We are, or were, the last hope.”

  “War’s lost. Commonwealth is no more.”

  Will sighed deeply at that. “And probably will never be again,” he said softly. “But orders are orders. I was supposed to bring you back alive, but I don’t think the senator will mind if you’re dead. Bringing you back is what’s important.”

  “Senator? Don’t you mean collaborator?”

  “I don’t much like it myself. But the senator’s right. If we’re going to get out from under the Miram Union’s control, then we have to get them to release their stranglehold. Can’t do anything with the CW in as bad a shape as it is. And they won’t ease the restrictions on us if anybody ever found about you. Hell, right now public opinion’s on our side. How do you think that’ll change if the story about that moon gets out?”

  Once again Will’s head popped out beyond the edge of the support column, but he yanked it back quickly. Aaron didn’t even get a shot off this time.

  “It’s a shame, really. I read your file before I came here. I was impressed, and that makes what you did all the worse.” Another pause, like he was waiting on Aaron to say something. When he didn’t, Will continued, “You and I are the same. Did you suspect that?” Another pause. There was the sound of movement and Will’s head came out from behind the pillar.

  Aaron was ready and fired, but Will looked out from a higher point than before and once again Aaron just blasted a chunk of the support away.

  “Nice try,” Will called, jerking his head back again.

  Aaron slumped. Exhaustion and his injuries were beginning to wear him down. For the first time he lowered the Horace. He just couldn’t hold it up the whole time.

  “So, I’m going to take your body back to the senator. He won’t much like that I’m bringing him a corpse, but shit happens. Of course, I can’t go back without your four friends. Care to tell me where they might be? I suppose that if I brought them back alive then the senator would overlook your death.”

  There was a sudden intake of breath, and Aaron raised his gun quickly.

  “Shit! What did you do to Emma?”

  “Who?” Aaron asked.

  “The woman who was using the comm gear. Catching you completely drove it from my mind.”

  “Dead,” Aaron said in that same flat, monotone voice.

  Will gasped in surprise. “You fucking murderer,” he said quietly.

  Something had to change and change quick. Aaron’s body was in bad shape, and his vision was going fuzzy. He didn’t have long now. Either he died, or he had to change how things were proceeding. He pushed with his legs and pain erupted from both his side and his injured leg. But he pushed through the pain
and forced himself into a sitting position.

  The logic of the statement made perfect sense. This Emma and the two in his hotel room had tried to kill him, and he had just defended himself. Why Will would be so shocked by it made no sense, but it did provide a possibility. Perhaps he could goad this Will into a rash action.

  He raised the Horace and pointed it at the column. “Killed Terra and Quinton too,” he said.

  Will gasped again, and then he aimed his handgun around the edge of the column.

  Aaron opened up with the Horace, peppering the edge of the column where Will’s gun was visible. Will screamed and pulled back.

  Aaron slumped. He had managed to hit Will, but the wound was most likely not life threatening. Only Will’s left arm had been visible and, at most, he had taken several shots to the arm. The column probably took more damage than Will had. Even now, several large pieces of metal broke and fell away.

  Will’s labored breathing was easy enough to hear, but Aaron tuned it out. It was possible that he had just discovered the solution to this problem. He forced his tortured body onto his knees, and pain bloomed through his injured side. He ignored it and grabbed the metal crate that he was hiding behind and used it to pull himself up. Several involuntary grunts escaped him and he checked the column to see if Will had heard. It appeared that he had not. Aaron could see Will’s feet sticking out. He was sitting on the floor with his back to the column. For a brief moment, Aaron thought Will was dead.

  “Bastard!” Will called. He was still breathing heavy and his words were more difficult to understand. “You got me, but not good enough to kill me. So, you know what we’re going to do? We’re going to sit here until you die. What do you think about that?”

  Aaron’s response was to point the Horace at the middle of the damaged column and open fire. Chips of metal flew from the column as plasma blast after plasma blast hit home. After just a moment the column glowed red hot.

  It took eight shots for the middle of the column to collapse, and with it, part of the roof came down.

  Chapter 30

  Susan shifted in her seat, trying to give herself a bit more room. The cab of the transport could easily accommodate two people. Three people could ride without feeling too cramped, but four was too much.

  Russell drove and the three women were practically sitting on top of each other. Jessica sat next to Russell, and she appeared to be having a difficult time staying out of his way. These cargo transports were not easy to drive and it was complicated even more when people kept interfering with the controls.

  Susan resisted the urge to sigh. She knew that Russell was driving as fast as he could. The transport was not built for speed, and he was doing an excellent job given their circumstances.

  There was one thing that was working in their favor: the spaceport roads were deserted. Reece and the others like him were patrolling the spaceport, questioning anyone on the streets.

  One such group of thugs posing as security guards had stopped their transport and spent nearly five minutes questioning them. They might still be answering questions if Susan hadn’t mentioned Reece’s name. The thugs had placed a call to Reece, who confirmed he had just inspected their ship, and that had gotten Susan and the rest free. She just hoped they could avoid any more such stops.

  Russell slowed down and turned right, the three women grabbing hold of anything and everything to keep from sliding into each other. There was some jostling and a few curses, but somehow they managed to stay out of Russell’s way.

  Russell gunned the transport and it sped up, but only for a moment and then he started slowing down again.

  Susan, busy trying to keep from grabbing Jessica and Eve in an inappropriate manner, looked up, momentarily afraid that another group of thugs was stopping them. In a way she was right, just not how she expected. Russell was slowing because they were approaching the main spaceport entrance.

  Susan’s mouth dropped open as she surveyed the scene. All the bars and brothels were closed down and the streets were deserted. It looked more like an abandoned street in a warzone than the bustling thoroughfare she remembered from a week ago. Large numbers of men in battle armor and carrying rifles stood clustered around the gates; several of them put their hands up to stop the transport. Russell obeyed quickly; they didn’t want to get shot, and the guards were a bit trigger-happy.

  They came to a stop and a guard, sans helmet, looked in through the window. The sight of the four of them sitting atop each other was enough. He grinned and said, “All right, everyone out.”

  It took a moment for the four of them to disentangle and climb from the transport’s cab, but they lined up quickly.

  Some of the guards in the back had lowered their rifles. They weren’t pointing the rifles at Susan or her crew, but they were pointed in such a way where the guard could quickly swing the gun up and begin firing.

  Susan took a deep breath, determined to not piss anyone off, even though her mind was screaming that they were wasting time.

  “State your ship name and landing-bay number,” the helmetless guard said. He was the closest guard and the only one not carrying a rifle.

  “We’re from the Soaring Freedom, in landing bay Alpha seventy-four. One of yours by the name of Reece just cleared us,” Susan said.

  The guard had been looking at Russell and seemed surprised that it was Susan who answered. “And you are?”

  “Captain Susan Bateman,” Susan said, holding her ID card out. It was one of several forged ones that Kyle’s father, Charles Morgan, had given her.

  The guard took the ID card and studied it for a moment. Then he handed it to another guard. “Call Reece and verify their story.” The second guard moved off quickly, heading toward a small mobile command center.

  The helmetless guard turned his attention back to Susan. “And where are you going this evening?” he asked.

  “Mainly going to get supplies, but I also hoped to get a drink and try to find a few perspective crewmen,” Susan said, lying flawlessly. “My ship is a few crewmen short.”

  The guard watched her, as if he expected her to have “liar” printed across her forehead, and then glanced at the other three. “Does it take four of you to get supplies and talk to spacers?”

  Susan chuckled, sounding normal. “Not hardly. I’m looking for crewman,” Susan said and then began motioning towards the others. “Russell is getting the supplies, Eve wants a drink, and honestly I think Jessica came just so she could get laid.”

  Eve and Russell kept their faces straight, but Jessica blushed furiously.

  The guard didn’t seem to have a sense of humor. “I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Most of the supply shops and outfitters have closed for the evening. I doubt you’ll find a pub or restaurant open either.”

  “Seriously?” Susan asked, adding just the right amount of indignation. “Is the whole planet shutting down?”

  The guard seemed just a tad offended. “A prominent member of our society was gunned down today, and the government is not stopping until his killer is brought to justice. The local businesses are doing their part to help.”

  “Great,” Susan said. “That has absolutely nothing to do with us or just about everyone else on this planet.” And she didn’t think it was justice they wanted, but more like revenge.

  The guard ignored her comment and said, “I think I’ll inspect your transport.”

  Susan laughed, she just couldn’t help it. She turned to look at the empty transport. Both doors stood open revealing the empty cab, and the flat cargo area was also empty. She motioned with her hands. “Go ahead. That should take about five seconds.” Despite her apparent jocular attitude, Susan’s guts were turning themselves over within her. Oh, I hope Terry did a good job hiding that concealed cargo hold, she kept thinking over and over.

  The guard took a deep breath, apparently trying to rein in his temper. He was spared having to glance through the open doors by the reappearance of the guard from the mobile command center
.

  “Well?” the helmetless guard demanded.

  “Sir, Mr. Reece seemed upset that we contacted him,” the young guard said quickly.

  Mr. Reece? Susan thought. I thought Reece was his first name. Is it his last name?

  “It would seem that Captain Bateman is telling the truth, and Mr. Reece has been called about her several times.” The young guard looked a bit sick but hurried on. “He says we are to quit bothering him and let Captain Bateman go about her business.”

  The helmetless guard nodded and stood a bit straighter.

  It seemed that Mr. Reece had some pull in this organization. She had thought him just a two-bit thug, but it appeared he was a very influential thug.

  “Captain, you and your crew are free to continue into the city. We will inspect any cargo that you bring back and any crewmen will be questioned prior to be allowed to board your ship.”

  Susan nodded. “My thanks,” she said simply, then turned and walked slowly back to the transport. She fought long and hard, and managed not to exhale in relief.

  Chapter 31

  Dust and debris washed over Aaron, but he barely registered them. His eyes sought out Will’s body for some sign that the man was alive or dead. Even as wooden beams cascaded down around him, Aaron ignored them. There was little he could do to avoid them anyway given his body’s current condition.

  After a moment it began to get quiet. The support beams of the ceiling and some of the tiles that made up the floor of the room above him had fallen through, making a large pile of debris directly where Will had been sitting. Parts of the ceiling had collapsed, while other sections just tilted downward at a dangerous angle.

  Holding the Horace in his right hand, Aaron limped closer. It was difficult to see, as the ceiling collapse had kicked up an enormous amount of dust.

  A cough came from the side and Aaron aimed his gun in that direction. After a moment he struggled closer to the source of the cough.