Eli and Preacher stopped several meters down the bar and made to order drinks, but Hawkins’ command voice followed them. “I meant at another saloon, Preacher.”
Preacher glanced in his captain’s direction, nodded once, and he and Eli turned and departed out the front door. Tactical watched them go, picked up her drink off the bar, and then came over to join Hawkins at his table in the shadows. Blondie and Baby Doll turned to the bar as Baby Doll talked to her earnestly.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to stop it,” Tactical said conversationally as she put her drink on the table, took a chair, and slid it next to her captain. She seated herself, leaned the chair back against the wall on the chair’s two back legs, grabbed her glass, and drank. The two of them sat side by side in the shadows with an unobstructed view of the entire bar.
“I thought about letting it play out, but came to the conclusion you wouldn’t wound Eli but kill him, and I need him at the helm.”
Tactical nodded. “Good observation.”
“First, we need two more beers,” Hawkins remarked as he held up two fingers to the bartender when the man glanced in his direction. “Second, Blondie is missing some of the subtleties of being a pirate. We need to address that before someone gets killed.”
“Agreed,” Tactical casually stated while draining her beer.
After the arrival of the beers, the two drank silently for several minutes. Doc Windsor had drifted back to join the twins, Blondie, and Baby Doll. The bar had only three other customers clustered at the far end near the door. Rafe checked his watch and announced quietly, “Ten more minutes and we move out.”
A short liberty period for only a few members of the crew, but Hawkins had always been a captain who would get people dirtside if at all possible, even for a few hours. Time ashore was difficult to come by and any opportunity was welcomed.
Seconds after he spoke, seven men entered the long room through the front door. The men took up positions at the end of the bar nearest the front door, the only way in and out. Four sat at two tables and the remaining three took the bar end. One man ordered two bottles of whiskey. Although the men seemed oblivious to the pirates, they instantly got the pirates’ attention. The three other customers left money at their places and hastily departed. The bartender gave the men the two bottles and moved away quickly along the back of the bar. He suddenly seemed intent on arranging something under the bar top and knelt down out of sight.
“Head,” Baby Doll abruptly announced to Blondie.
Blondie looked confused but Baby Doll calmly grabbed her arm and headed off toward the back of the tavern where the bathrooms were located. As they rounded the corner out of sight of the bar room, Baby Doll stopped so abruptly, Blondie nearly ran into her.
“Got your shooter?” Baby Doll asked urgently.
“No. It’s on the ship.”
Baby Doll looked at her irritatingly. “Not doing you a helluva lot of good on the ship.”
Blondie looked puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
Baby Doll stared at her as she reached under her shirt to the small of her back, removed a shooter, and offered it to Blondie. “I know a death squad when I see one. You cover behind the bar. I guarantee one of them will try to come down behind the bar to get us. You get him first.”
Blondie stared at her open mouthed even as she took the weapon. Baby Doll reached forward to Blondie’s new shooter and clicked the safety off. “Works better that way.” For someone about to enter a barroom firefight, Baby Doll was remarkably calm and collected. She peeked around the corner. They had only been gone fifteen seconds, but the twins and Doc Windsor had moved from the bar to a table next to Hawkins and Tactical. They knew what a death squad looked like also.
“Get ready,” Baby Doll spoke in a whisper. “We’ll go out when our people move. You set up against the wall at the end of the wall shelves behind the bar. I will set up at the end of the bar itself.” She turned and looked at the apprehensive young woman next to her. She tried what she hoped was a reassuring smile, and patted Blondie’s right arm with her left hand. “It will go quick. Just do your part and everything will be fine. Trust me on that.”
As she turned back to peek around the corner, every pirate moved at once. Hawkins always felt the last party to enter the room seemed to believe it was their right to act first to begin the action. So Hawkins insisted on being the first to act to catch the newcomers by surprise. He turned over the table as Tactical pulled her weapon and fired the first shot, hitting a man seated at a table square in the chest. Tables flipped over as everyone dove for the meager cover offered by the thick wood. The pirates got off five more shots before taking any return fire. Red bolts of energy flew the length of the bar as fire was exchanged by assailants now flat on the floor behind tables and chairs. Bolts punched through wood sending splinters in all directions. Noise of impacts and the screams of wounded people were amplified in the long narrow room. The smell of burning wood and burning flesh soon dominated.
Immediately upon the first shot, Baby Doll and Blondie moved to their positions at the end of the bar and the end of the wall shelves behind the bar. Baby Doll rapidly joined the firefight with several shots fired at a single man behind a table and two overturned chairs. Blondie kept her body behind the end of the shelves for cover with only the right side of her face and her fully extended right arm into the narrow passage between the bar and the wall shelves behind it. She had her shooter up and ready while desperately hoping not to need it. The hope was short lived. A man came around the far end of the bar and started to move rapidly behind the bar toward Blondie. Bent over at the waist to stay below the bar height, he was not looking ahead but was looking down to ensure he did not trip.
“Stop!” Blondie shouted at him, hoping he would retreat back to his end of the bar. Surprisingly, he heard her above all the noise, but he did not retreat. He lifted his shooter. Blondie fired a split second before he did. She felt the heat of the energy bolt as it missed her right ear by centimeters. The smell of burnt hair filled her nostrils. Her shot hit him in the left knee. He went down as his legs were knocked out from under him. Despite the pain and awkward position, he shot again, but the round went high over Blondie’s head. She fired in earnest now. Rounds hit the floor in front of her target, and then one hit him in the shoulder and another in the face. He was lying still on the floor and smoking, but she did not stop shooting despite the overheating weapon in her hand. She was vaguely aware of someone screaming nearby and hoped none of her shipmates were hit. Out of nowhere, a hand seized her gun arm in an iron grip, and she glanced to her right to see Baby Doll kneeling beside her.
“You can stop now. He’s dead.” She was using a kind and calm voice as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Blondie stopped shooting and stared at her. The screaming had stopped, and she realized it had been her doing the yelling. Baby Doll slid her hand down Blondie’s arm to her hand, clicked on the safety, and gently removed the hot pistol from her hand. Blondie rocked back from her kneeling position, and sat on the floor, dazed and confused. Baby Doll knelt beside her.
“Is it over?” Blondie could barely get out the words amid rapid shallow breathing.
“Yes,” Baby Doll said simply. “Take a deep breath and relax for a minute.” Her voice continued to be soft and gentle and she gave Blondie a slight smile. “You did good.”
“I gave him a way out but he wouldn’t take it.” She now took several deep breaths and her voice started to return to normal.
“I heard,” Baby Doll would counsel her later about that being a bad idea, but now was not the time for a critique. “I smell singed hair. One must have come close.”
Blondie giggled now. “Damn close.” She laughed now. “But not nearly close enough to help him.” Baby Doll knew Blondie was coming down off the adrenaline high of battle and realizing she had cheated death. It always made first timers giddy.
“Any of us hit?” Blondie asked.
“No, we’re
all fine.”
“Good,” Blondie closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.
“We need to go,” Baby Doll remarked, deliberately low key.
“Probably so,” Blondie happily agreed and shakily stood up. “How long did it last?” Blondie was sure it had been two or three minutes.
“Maybe twenty seconds.”
Blondie stared at her in disbelief.
“It always seems longer,” Baby Doll remarked off handedly. “Time always slows down in a fight and, if the fight is close up and personal, it slows down even more. I think it is because the gods want to watch and savor every moment.”
In their short relationship, Blondie had never heard Baby Doll ever mention gods or religion, and Blondie was a bit surprised by the remark.
Sounds came from behind the bar, and both women whirled toward the sound.
“Don’t shoot! It is just me!” The bartender was emerging from underneath the bar. Somehow he had managed to wedge himself into the shelves under the bar amidst the liquor and glasses to get at least the illusion of safety. Blondie realized several of her wildly fired shots must have passed very close to him. He stood up and surveyed the damage. This made Blondie look around also. Twenty seconds of fighting had destroyed the bar furniture and put smoking holes in the walls at each end of the long narrow room. Six bodies were sprawled in grotesque positions near the front door. Nobody needed to check them to ensure they were dead. Raferty Hawkins and Tactical were walking among the downed men with shooters raised and pointed, not at the men on the floor, but at the front door.
“Check them for ID,” Hawkins announced to the twins as he and Tactical moved to shooting positions by the door and the large front window.
Joker and Ace began to go over the bodies, checking pockets and clothing tags for any clues to the attacker’s identities. Doc Windsor stood from behind a table and, upon seeing the rising bartender, moved to the bar. He pounded on the bar with his hand and said, “Barkeep, a drink of your finest whiskey.” The bartender looked at him incredulously. Windsor pulled credits from his pocket and repeated the demand. The bartender shrugged and poured him a drink in a tall glass and passed it to him while collecting the money. Windsor took a long pull.
Hawkins and Tactical glanced quickly through the windows at the street while staying behind cover. Baby Doll and Blondie moved up behind them. “Anything?” Hawkins asked Tactical without taking his eyes off the street.
“No but they have to be there. No way these guys don’t leave at least two to cover the front door and cut off reinforcements, especially since there is no back door.” Tactical responded while continuing to scan outside.
“Captain!” A familiar voice sounded from outside.
“Logan, how is it out there?”
“There were two of them but not anymore.”
“We’re coming out in thirty!” Hawkins turned back to the twin engineers. “Anything?”
“No,” said Ace (or Joker). “They have nothing on them at all. No papers or wallets. The tags from their clothes are common and probably locally bought.”
“Someone had to order them to clean their pockets,” Tactical said. “The way they set this up tells me they were not pros but hired help from the local scene. No way experienced pros do the hit this way. They would wait until we came out of the saloon and get us in a crossfire in the street or just come into the saloon shooting.” Tactical truly despised poorly conceived and executed plans, even if the plans were against her.
“Time to go,” Hawkins moved out the door with everyone in close pursuit. Doc Windsor brought up the rear while balancing his glass of whiskey.
Logan and several crewmembers emerged from various hiding places and formed a security circle as the entire group moved toward the landing port. Logan took up a position next to his Captain. Several people were peering from hiding places, but nobody had ventured into the street. The pirates moved quickly.
“Where are the lookouts?” asked Rafe.
“We took them out and stuffed them out of sight in the alley across from your saloon,” Logan replied, and then he gestured up the street in the direction they were headed. “I got a scouting party ahead of us and we got comm with them. Clear so far. The shuttle might have bad guys watching it, but we’ll find that out soon enough. I’ve contacted the guards at the shuttle and the rented air taxies, and they will have the vehicles ready for a quick exit.”
“How did you get to us so quickly?”
“Ten of us were drinking in a bar up the street and saw these bad boys pass by in a herd, and the locals started to disappear from view. Could have been a local fight but a little too much of a coincidence that a local fight would happen on the street where most of us were drinking, so we followed them, and when we saw them enter your bar while dropping off two men outside, we set up to take out the guards. Would have been in to help you but you acted too fast.”
Rafe nodded. Logan would have been in the thick of the fight in seconds if time had allowed it. He was a man to have on your side in a tight situation. As they moved up the street, the figure of Father Stapleton came toward them at a run with several of his people trying to keep pace.
“Thank God,” he exclaimed as he neared them. “Anybody hit?”
“No, we’re all good,” Hawkins replied conversationally. “Any ideas as to who could be behind it?”
Stapleton shook his head as he fell in step next to Raferty. “Not yet but I will know something soon. I’ll have our entire network here get involved until we get some answers.”
“Good. Send us a message when you get something. The dead men had no ID and were wearing locally produced clothes. Tactical thinks locally hired hoods.”
“You’ll hear from me in two days one way or another.”
“Sounds good.”
They arrived at the landing pad and took roll call. The word of the attempted ambush had spread quickly. Standard operating procedure called for all of Predator’s crewmembers to go to the scene of the fight or return to the point of departure. All crewmembers on liberty had quickly returned to the landing pad. After quick good byes, they were airborne in their shuttle and the two rented air taxies for return to Predator. The shuttle docked in the ship’s hangar bay as the air taxies disembarked their passengers at two airlocks and returned to the planet.
The shuttle had been packed with people and equipment. Tactical and Raferty occupied the two pilot’s seats so were last off the shuttle in the hangar bay. Rafe turned to her. “I want to see all concerned crewmembers in my day cabin in fifteen.” Tactical nodded. She knew exactly whom he wanted.
Fifteen minutes later, Captain Raferty Hawkins sat ramrod straight at his desk and stared at his audience. He was not happy and there was no doubt about it among the people in his day cabin. Tactical, Baby Doll, Blondie, Eli, and Preacher were standing in front of his desk.
“Okay. We seemed to have hit a bump in our relationships, so I’m going to show the way ahead here. Let me be blunt. If some people in this room can’t work together, people can leave the ship now and go dirtside with no malice. You get your crew share of prize money and go your own way. You will leave your dagger here and nothing more will be said or done and we all move on. Now, if everyone promises me right now they can work together and once we’re out in vacuum that proves not to be true, I’m going to solve the problem. The way I’m going to do that is, I will start shoving people out an airlock until I’m satisfied the problem is solved. There will be no appeal, no second chances, no ‘let’s think about it.’ People are going to take a spacewalk.” Hawkins leaned back in his chair. “So can we all work together or do some changes need to be made?”
The words sounded as if the Captain was addressing everyone in the room, but everyone there knew that wasn’t true. During the entire speech, Hawkins’ eyes never left Eli the helmsman. There was no doubt as to whom he was really talking to, and if things went badly in space, there was no doubt as to who was going to be first out the airlock. Eli showed
no effect from his drinking as he stood at attention.
Rafe’s eyes stayed on Eli as he said again, “Now, am I going to have a continuing problem here?”
“No, Captain,” Eli stood straight and sounded off. He knew who was being addressed here.
“You’re sure now?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Excellent,” Rafe addressed him and then he turned to Preacher. “You’re supposed to be the mature one between the two of you but, quite frankly, I don’t see it. What I did see was you standing around while Stupid there nearly got himself killed. Let me tell you something, Preacher. If Eli goes out an airlock, you’re going too, fifteen seconds in trail. You got that?”
“Yes, Captain,” Preacher went slightly pale and stood as close to attention as pirates get. He knew Eli could be a tough man to keep in line and he had tried, but now the stakes were raised.
“Excellent,” Rafe said again. He then pointed his left index and middle fingers in a V at the two crewmen and said, “Get out.” They both departed in a hurry.
After those two left, the atmosphere in the room relaxed. Hawkins pushed his chair back and put his feet up on his desk. He smiled at Blondie. “There are aspects of this pirate thing kicking your ass, aren’t there?”
“Captain?” Blondie straightened up instinctively but looked at her captain with a puzzled expression.
“Well, let’s review the record here. We’ll start with Doc Windsor. I understand you gave him unsolicited advice on his drug and alcohol use.”
“Captain, he is obviously an addict who needs help,” exclaimed Blondie in a defensive tone.
Payback Is a Given: Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 2 Page 8