Ike Shot the Sheriff

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Ike Shot the Sheriff Page 6

by Scott Moon


  “How could you conceive of such a plan?”

  Ike twisted his head around to stare at him. “You sneaky son of a… You’re recording this!” He thrust his weight into the cuffs, then tried to spin in a tight circle to pull them out of Thaddeus’s hands.

  Thaddeus jerked him up onto his toes, then drove him against the wall.

  “He is not so heavy as a tractor tire,” Mast said.

  “No, he isn’t. About as smart, though,” Thad said.

  CHAPTER TWELVE: Tricksy

  Thaddeus pounded on Shaunte’s office door, rattling the glass.

  “I said just a minute,” she answered.

  He waited, not sure why he was so impatient. Stress burned in his gut. He didn’t want to light this fireball. He knocked again.

  There was a pause before Shaunte stomped to the door and yanked it open. “I am in the middle of a videoconference. I had to put them on mute to deal with you. I don’t care if the building is literally burning to the ground, it can wait.”

  “I...um...should’ve thought of that.”

  “That’s right, you should have. Unless your grand scheme is to find a new boss,” she said, then pointed at a smaller, cleaner version of his chair in the corner of her office. “Just be quiet. I have to deal with this.”

  Thaddeus moved carefully and sat down like a kid in school. He put his hands on his lap and was self-conscious about the way his blaster hung off the side of the chair.

  Shaunte strode back to her desk, spread her hands as she leaned against the edge of it, and resumed her videoconference. “Chairman Stoddard, I understand your concerns and have a detailed operational plan to address them. We’ve been over the major points, and I sent your assistant the complete packet. There’s a step-by-step explanation. There are references for the facts supporting my arguments, and I have income and expense statements down to the last detail. There is nothing your people can do here that hasn’t already been done.”

  Thaddeus’s face grew red as he thought of Ike and the sudden breakdown of labor relations in Darklanding. With no way to help Shaunte in the debate, he practiced combat breathing until his heart rate came down and he saw the situation clearly.

  Shaunte finished the conference nearly a half-hour later, exhausted and sweaty despite the-climate controlled room. She collapsed into her chair and unbuttoned her shirt collar. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “I didn’t exactly bring you good news,” he said.

  She massaged the back of her neck with one hand, and picked something out of her mascara with the other. “I don’t know there’s anything you could tell me that would make this day any worse. The only silver lining I can see in this cloud is that the price of exotic minerals has skyrocketed during the last week.”

  “I think Ike and his people were sent here to instigate the strike, then break it,” he said.

  “I’m not surprised he’s involved, but I’m not sure how much it matters either way.” She sat up and started slowly working through the documents she had strewn just out of view of the camera to support her arguments during the debate. File screens and actual paper were everywhere.

  Thaddeus pulled the recorder from his pocket, turned it on, and set it on her desk. She listened without showing any emotion.

  “He’s the instigator. I can deal with him, but you have to back me and it’s probably going to cost you money,” he said.

  “If the problem is just one man, or even one man and a few of his goons, why should it be that expensive? To be honest, this seems more like a relief than anything,” she said.

  “Ike basically told me I was a babe in the woods when it came to corporate infighting. Maybe, maybe not. What I can tell you is that I’m no stranger to power moves. I was a captain in the military after all.” He explained about the strange ship that seemed to be full of either cargo or people. “Ike is the immediate problem, but he implied that someone is out to drive you out of business. Maybe drive your family’s connections away from SagCon and Darklanding.”

  He waited a moment to judge her response and thought he sensed an iron resolve under the surface of her attractive face.

  “I’m the sheriff, but I understand war. This won’t end with Ike, or the ship, or whatever the next thing is. You must be ready to fight the long fight. I’ll go after Ike and his people, but not if you’re going to let me hang out there to dry.”

  Shaunte met his eyes, then nodded. “Where is Ike now?”

  “I considered sending him to the bottom of a mine with Mast and his people,” Thad said.

  “Oh, I like that idea. Is there room for Chairman Stoddard down there as well?”

  “That’s the spirit,” Thaddeus said.

  She studied him for a moment, sitting up straighter. “What are you thinking, Sheriff?”

  Thaddeus stood and paced. “There has to be something more. It can’t just be Ike and his mercs stirring up hate and discontent. No one cares about that. My op sec training says there is a bigger threat that I’m not seeing.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Shaunte said.

  “He needs intergalactic attention to get the planet put under martial law. Some kind of terrorist attack or major industrial disaster pointing at your incompetence,” Thaddeus said. “I think I need to let him go.”

  “What?”

  “All I have on him is a misdemeanor.”

  “Inciting a riot sounds like a felony to me,” Shaunte said.

  “Work with me.” Thaddeus paced, thinking aloud. “I can’t hold him. I make a big show. My pride is trashed. I’m a dumb army grunt who hates losing, but it is what it is. Ike goes free.”

  “And you follow him and learn his secret plan,” she said.

  He stopped and faced her. “Pretty much.”

  “Does that kind of thing actually work?”

  Thad smiled and pulled on his hat. “Let’s hope it does.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Sideways

  “I do not like this,” Mast said as he watched Ike swagger down the street.

  “Wait, it’ll get better,” Thad said.

  Ike put a hop in his step, turned as he bounced along, and presented two middle fingers to Thad and Mast.

  “That is an odd selection of fingers. Does it mean something?”

  Thad clenched his mouth shut to avoid laughing. “I’m trying to look mad as hell. Stop it.”

  “Yes, we are very angry. I forgot the plan,” Mast said.

  Thad burst out laughing.

  Ike stopped, stared, and then spat on the ground. When he turned, there was real hate in his movements. He strode straight to a row of lockers on the side of a prefabricated building. He cursed as he spun the combination. After several attempts, he punched it.

  “I think that worked. Are your people in place?” Thaddeus asked. “What is he doing at that locker?”

  “The children of Ungwilook are even more rightly ignored than the adults,” Mast said. “Did I say that correctly this time?”

  “Depends on what you mean. I think you missed in this context. Let’s see where Ike goes,” Thaddeus said.

  “He will not go to the ship,” Mast predicted.

  Thaddeus nodded. “You’re right. Eventually he will, but not now.”

  They moved forward as Mast talked on a simple handheld radio. Before they released Ike, he had equipped a dozen neighborhood children with matching devices and explained they were to follow Ike and not be seen. Unglok children were as small and nimble as the adults were tall bone-racks.

  “There is one thing I hope he does not do,” Mast said.

  “Relax, Mast. I know how his type thinks,” Thad said.

  “What if he gets paid a bonus to take out the Sheriff of Darklanding, and very badly murder the deputy also-ly, before he starts his strike. What is a strike, exactly? Mast is so confused.”

  Thaddeus's hand went to his gun. In a flash, he understood his plan was simplistic and fatally flawed. Ike's job would be easier without law and orde
r. “I don't think he has it in him. He's a bully, not an assassin.”

  “You do not sound very firmly certain of your conclusion,” Mast said as he watched Ike yank open the locker and pull something out.

  Ike grabbed a blaster and shook it free of the holster. “Lawman!” He marched forward, gun at his side, fire in his eyes. “You don't know who I am or who my family is, but you're gonna learn.”

  “Mast, move over to his flank.”

  “Is that a good idea? Please define flank? It is different from the flank on a steak, I must assume.”

  Thad pointed with his non-gun hand. “Take cover at the corner of that building.” He stepped into the street, his long fire coat hanging open, brushing it back on his right side for easier access to his blaster. “Gunfights should always happen from a position of cover and concealment with the option to shoot and move.”

  This situation was as outside his comfort zone as it was unavoidable.

  Ike's anger transformed into surprise, something Thaddeus had seen many times in men realizing they'd made a bad decision in anger. His eyes flashed to Thad’s, widening as he yanked his own weapon free of the holster.

  Thaddeus drew and fired twice from the hip as Ike’s blaster roared. The muzzle flash looked bigger than the sun and impossibly close at the same time. He flinched, staggered, and realized he’d been struck in the shoulder or arm by a single blast. The impact felt like a hammer but now he wasn’t sure if he’d been hit.

  “I’m going after him. He’s heading away from the spaceport,” Thaddeus grunted into the radio channel he shared with Mast.

  Ike bolted into the alleyway, his long coat flapping behind him as he pumped his arms and legs for more speed. Injured animals ran like that, Thad thought. As a boy, he’d been hunting with his uncle and watched a buck bolt into the woods when the arrow struck. The speed and power of the animal had been incredible despite the mortal wound.

  He doesn’t look hurt, Thaddeus thought. His legs felt heavy and his left arm could be made of out either stone or a soggy bundle of ropes with no nerve endings. “Get it together, Fry man!” He gritted his teeth against the pain and ran on.

  He struck his left arm with the barrel of his blaster, glancing at the source of his growing pain. If there was blood, it was lost in the fabric of the sleeve and shadows of the buildings.

  Every street held groups of men and women wandering away from the morning conflict. Snatches of confused conversation buffeted Thad as he ran by them. Anger, confusion, and discontent seemed to be the order of the day.

  He saw Ike cross a street and duck into another alleyway. For three long blocks, he pursued his quarry. Somewhere along the way, he holstered his blaster and pressed his palm to the wound on his upper left arm, wincing in pain and wondering why there wasn’t more blood.

  A young woman appeared from one of the prefabricated doorways a dozen meters ahead of him.

  “Where’s your pig?” she asked as he jogged past her.

  “Go inside. It’s dangerous out here,” he said, instantly realizing the doorway she had popped out of wasn’t hers. The strange girl was on the move. She had probably been running parallel to his pursuit of Ike.

  She appeared again on the next block, and the one after that, always a bit ahead of him.

  Well, she hasn’t been in a gunfight. She should be faster than I am, Thad thought, odd that he wondered what she was up to.

  Ike staggered straight down a deserted street. This seemed like a good place for Thad to finish the fight, but the man ducked around the corner.

  The girl, behind Thad this time, caught up to him and walked quickly at his side, emphasizing how slowly he was now running. Gasping for breath. Breathing. Sweating like a boot camp recruit.

  “Who are you?” Thaddeus asked.

  “Told you I’m Ruby Miranda,” she said. “Ike’s my brother.”

  Thaddeus stopped and stared at the sky.

  “Black sheep of the family,” she said.

  “You or him?”

  “Him, of course! How could you even ask that?” She smiled mischievously. “We kind of hate each other more than you think we would. He was disinherited a long time ago. Me, only recently.”

  “Great. That’s fantastic,” Thaddeus said, leaning on his hands to catch his breath. “You don’t seem to be doing bad. I’m not sure why you’re working for Dixie. You obviously don’t need the money.” He waved a hand at her expensive safari outfit as he stood and moved toward the last place he’d seen Ike.

  “Stolen. It is a ridiculous outfit, but more functional than what Dixie makes me wear. I like you, Sheriff Fry. I’m glad my brother hasn’t killed you,” she said, then pointed at a long building made of clear ceramic panels. “He didn’t go that way. He went through this greenhouse. See the blood?”

  Thad abandoned the alleyway he thought Ike had slipped into and looked at the door. On the handle was a smear of blood.

  “He’s a trickster. Don’t be fooled by the blood. He isn’t hurt as bad as he wants you to think he’s hurt,” she said.

  “Why are you helping me?” Thad asked.

  “I have my reasons. Besides, you’re cute for an old guy,” she said.

  “Thanks. I think.” He almost doubled over in pain, panting as he attempted to regain control of himself.

  She stepped forward and pulled his jacket open.

  Blood stained the left side of his shirt to his waist despite the lack of a torso wound. “My father and uncles did military service. They didn’t have to.”

  Thaddeus winced at the pain, controlling his breathing with effort. “That’s noble of them. Hope they enjoyed Officer Candidate’s School. Ike is getting away.”

  She shook her head. “I doubt it. He’s probably watching us and trying to decide if he wants to come back and punch me in the face or escape.”

  “You have a lovely family.”

  She laughed as she pulled a cloth from a pocket of her trousers and wiped away blood from his chest, shoulder, and arm. “The wound is small, actually. Let me find it. There it is, right on your humerus.”

  “Ouch!”

  “Easy, tough guy,” she said. “My father did go to OCS. My uncle went enlisted for the experience.”

  “At least now I know which of them is smarter,” Thad said, searching the buildings and alley openings for Ike.

  “Ike tried to be like my uncle, but it didn’t work. He acted like a spoiled rich kid and things went sideways. He got into some things after his term of enlistment. Ran with a bad crowd. Got disowned. Right now, he is trying to earn his way back into the family’s good graces,” she said.

  “Your family is more powerful than SagCon? Give me a break.”

  “We’re part of it. SagCon is a big organization. Factions within factions, like any good interstellar government. I know. You think it’s just a corporation,” she said. She finished tying her bandana over the wound. “There. The blaster doesn’t use a slug, so you’re lucky on that point. It also sears the wound shut if you don’t charge all over the place pulling the flesh apart. This isn’t a tourniquet, just a pressure bandage. Don’t go too long before getting real medical attention.”

  “You talk like a combat medic and sound like a runaway kid. You and I are going to have a sit-down talk when this is over,” he said.

  “If I stay on Ungwilook,” she said.

  Thaddeus opened the door leading into the long greenhouse. Several of the lights were out, either missing or smashed. He looked back at Ruby.

  “I’m not going in there,” she said. She shrugged. “Allergies.”

  “Good. Go back to the Mother Lode.”

  “Yes, dad.”

  He shook his head. “We’re going to have a talk.”

  She walked away, quickly disappearing as he was partway into the humid building already. His arm throbbed as he moved carefully forward, eventually emerging on the next block. From time to time, he spotted a drop of blood.

  “This is convenient,” he said as he
knelt for a closer look. The dark red blotch was perfectly round, as though it had been dropped intentionally. The cold finger of danger tickled the back of his neck. He moved away from the blood evidence and looked for an attack. The street was quieter than he thought it should be, but no one burst from doorways or rooftops to kill him.

  Thad slipped the data pad from his coat pocket and activated the radio patch application. “Mast, can I get a little help here?”

  “Very muchly,” Mast said. “Andronik says he can see you and you are looking the wrong way.”

  “Roger.” Thad dropped his chin to his chest in frustration as soon as he said the word.

  “Roger? What is a Roger?”

  “It means yes, I understand.”

  “Oh, then very muchly Roger on this end,” Mast said, almost giggling with the delight of learning an important new word.

  Thad looked up the street and saw a lean Unglok child jumping up and down, waving his hands. “Sheriff Thaddeus Fry! Over here! Muchly here!”

  Thad walked to him, pushed his arms down, and motioned with the palm of his left hand to be calm. “Listen, Andronik, don't ever say ‘muchly’ again.”

  Tears rimmed Andronik's eyes and his ears quivered. “Do you still want to find the bad man?”

  “Yes, Andronik. I do.” He cursed himself inwardly at the incredible urge to say “muchly.”

  The Unglok child pointed toward a row of purpose-built warehouses, but never took his dark amethyst eyes from Thad's face. “He went that way very…straightly.”

  Thad patted the Unglok child on the head. “Very good, Andronik.”

  Andronik's tears vanished. His eyes opened larger than seemed possible and his smile stretched disturbingly wide. He hopped up and down on his toes as he babbled in the Unglok language.

  Thad held the data pad radio up and turned it on. “Mast, what does this mean?”

  “Sheriff Thaddeus Fry! Please tell me you didn't pat him on the top of the head!”

  Thad looked down at the child who was now staring up, blinking rapidly. “Um, stay here and watch the street.”

  Andronik ran in a short circle, arms spread in the airplane pose. “Andronik will watch the street very much…” He froze in place and jerked his wide eyes toward Thaddeus.

 

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