by EJ Fisch
“I’ve got a broken window, a demolished HSP car, and a string of bullet holes up my wall. I’ll admit you caught us off guard with that drone. But we dealt with it, just like we dealt with your Sardon dogs, and just like we dealt with the Solaris insurgents.” She paused and shrugged. “You’ve lost every time, Bothum. What’s to say you won’t lose now? I’m not sure what you think you’re trying to accomplish here.”
He took a step toward her and crossed his arms. “Oh, Agent Payvan,” he said, clicking his tongue. “All of this is to ensure that we will never lose again.”
“Dane,” Saun protested.
“Quiet, Saun!” Bothum roared. In an instant his rifle was up and a shot was fired. Saun dropped to her knees, teeth gritted, clutching her left shoulder.
Ziva tensed, ready to make her move while the woman was down, but the hateful look in Bothum’s eyes held her back. A flaring temper meant his actions would be unpredictable; as long as he was armed, he was a threat. Come on, come on. Put the gun down.
The Sardon watched Saun menacingly for a moment before turning his attention back to Ziva. “I’m sure you remember the Fringe War,” he began nonchalantly. “You must have only been a child. It was a fine contest between our two civilizations to be sure, but your people prevailed before we could get what we came for.”
Ziva scoffed and shook her head. “You can’t seriously tell me that this is still about the caura extract.”
“You left us no choice but to take it by force. When retrieving a lizard ourselves didn’t work, we saw no other way to accomplish our goal than to occupy your planet.”
“We offered you a contract that you refused to agree to. You could have had a sample of the extract for a fair price.”
“You’re missing the point, Agent Payvan. Such a rare and unobtainable substance is invaluable. Does the power to heal come with a price? If anything, your people should be willing to use that power for the good of the entire galaxy and not just yourselves.”
“Don’t try to tell me this is for the good of the people, Bothum. You want that extract because you want the money that will come from everyone who travels across the galaxy to get it. You’ll have a monopoly over all the other medical centers in existence, shut them down. You’ll be at the top of the food chain.”
Bothum chuckled. “Now you’re getting it. However, while my people are quite capable, yours far outclass us in both size and strength.”
“Which is why you kidnapped them and used them in your sick experiments. You created the perfect combination between the two species, but loyal to you to help even the odds.”
“You’re a smart woman, Agent Payvan,” Bothum praised. “We began developing our own cloning technology long before the War even began, and we first incorporated it to replace troops lost during battle. We’ve been at this for awhile, you see, and I can promise you that it’s going to do more than just ‘even the odds’ this time. We are currently producing enough troops to eventually match both your military and HSP in numbers, and thanks to Saun here we know exactly what those numbers are. Now you know our little secret, compliments of Jayden Saiffe and his imprudent snooping. You and Tarbic are both going to die though, and that secret will die with you.” He strode over to her and leaned down into her space. “And don’t worry. We’ll find the boy and anyone else who’s here with you.”
Ziva cracked a smile. “It’s not going to work.”
Bothum stood back up and took a step backward. “And why exactly is that?”
The timing couldn’t have possibly been better. A distant explosion suddenly rocked the building, followed by a frantic jumble of transmissions coming through the comm system.
Bothum looked from his desk to Ziva and then to Saun. “Find Atu,” he ordered. “Tell me what’s going on.” Then he added, “Lock the door behind you.”
Ziva watched as Saun scrambled to the door, still holding her shoulder, and went out. Two guards were posted directly outside, speaking into their headsets in response to the noise. They would need to be dealt with as well.
Another explosion shook the floor, closer this time. When she looked back up, Bothum was at his desk, trying to make sense of the chaotic voices coming through the speaker. A red indicator light blinked steadily, signifying an incoming message from a communicator outside of the building’s system. He pressed the button.
“This is Colonel Kevyn Sheen, Grand Army of Haphez,” a man announced. “To whom am I speaking?”
Ziva could read the genuine fear and shock in Bothum’s face as he listened. He looked up at her, brows furrowed, then swallowed. “My name is Dane Bothum. I run this facility.”
“Mr. Bothum, it has come to my attention that you are unlawfully holding two of our agents in your compound and that you’ve been responsible for abducting numerous Haphezian military personnel for use in creating an army. In doing so, you are out of compliance with the agreement that was made with your civilization following the Fringe War, giving us the right to retaliate with destructive force. We are, however, willing to negotiate new terms of surrender if you so choose. You have fifteen minutes to let our people out unharmed, but be assured that if you make any form of aggressive advances we will respond accordingly. Now Mr. Bothum, do you understand what I’ve told you?”
Ziva didn’t see Bothum rub his eyes. She didn’t see him run his hand over the top of his bald head. What she saw was his arm as he slowly reached over to his desk and set the rifle down. The time was now.
Not giving it any more thought, she leaped up, holding the chair by the arm rests, and hurled herself as hard as she could against the wall. She heard the satisfying sound of plastic cracking, but Bothum had reacted quickly and recovered the rifle. Ziva dove to the floor, taking the chair down with her and using his desk for cover. She gave the cuff chain a good yank, successfully snapping the damaged slats and freeing herself.
As Bothum came around the corner of the desk, Ziva swung her legs at him as hard as she could, sweeping his feet out from under him. He fell beside her and the rifle clattered to the floor by her head. Arms still behind her back, she kicked him hard in the stomach and wriggled toward the weapon, nudging it out of his reach with her shoulder.
Taking a few precious seconds, Ziva folded her legs up and tucked them through the loop created by her arms and the chain. With her hands in front of her at last, she scrambled to her feet just as Bothum did the same. His fists came at her with incredible speed and power, but she deftly ducked around them, keeping her weight forward and her chained hands up. With the cuffs still on, her greatest weapon would be her elbows, and she made good use of them with back-to-back blows to Bothum’s face. He responded with a shot of his own and Ziva stepped back to steady herself, catching his next swing with the chain.
“I must admit, Payvan, you had me fooled,” Bothum sneered, taking hold of one of her cuffed wrists, “but you’re not leaving this place alive.”
Ziva set her jaw and lifted their tangled arms up above her head. He was strong, holding her just as tightly as she held him. The cuffs were proving to be a disadvantage, as it took both her hands to do what he could with one. Bothum leaned forward, forcing her down, down, down, eyeing the elusive rifle as he did so.
Knees only centimeters from the floor, Ziva stopped struggling and dropped suddenly. The change in resistance made Bothum take a staggering step and she pulled him down with her, rolling his body over her back and hooking his neck with the chain.
Before he could regain his bearings, Ziva jerked back onto the floor, pulling him by the throat with her knees against his back so his flailing arms could not reach her. Bothum grabbed at the air behind him, swatting at her face with one hand while tugging desperately at the chain with the other. He kicked wildly at anything and everything, dislodging the governor’s body from the chair. The corpse toppled and fell limply on top of him.
Ziva looped the remaining chain around each hand and pulled all the harder, looking toward the door as she leaned back out of his
reach. It was still locked, but she could hear the guards hollering outside and knew they would eventually get in.
Blood was dribbling from Bothum’s mouth onto her arms and he was gurgling, choking on fluid. He no longer fought with his arms but his boots were still squeaking, leaving black marks on the floor as he searched for traction. Gradually he stopped making noise, and little by little he stopped moving. Ziva didn’t let go of the chain until he twitched one final time and his arms sagged to the floor.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled the chain out from where it had embedded itself in his neck and pushed him off. Her own wrists were already sore from her escape from the prison cell, but the cuffs had left them raw and bleeding. With the amount of adrenaline surging through her, she barely noticed the pain as she removed Bothum’s sidearm from his holster and rolled away. The instant her back hit the wall, the door opened and the two guards from outside rushed in, looking wildly about for the threat. Ziva dropped them before they even saw her and immediately reached into her boot, selecting the smallest of the three picks. She carefully unlocked the cuffs and removed each bracelet from her mangled wrists.
Ziva took up Bothum’s communicator and found her stolen supply belt and access key waiting in a chair just outside the office. She secured the belt to her waist and opened a transmission to Adin as she ran. If she was correct, she had about twelve minutes.
-53-
Sublevel sewer system
Dakiti Medical Research Center
Sardonis
Light was visible at the end of the sewer now, filling Zinni with the most relief she’d felt in a long time. Having just rounded a bend, they had perhaps a hundred meters to go before they reached fresh air and freedom. She looked to her right at Jole, Jayden, and Skeet, all of whom were looking ahead with the glimmer of light reflected in their eyes.
“See that, Jole?” she said, feeling a great urge to smile. “We’re almost there.”
“Quiet, Zinni!” Skeet snapped. His voice possessed the same uneasy tone it had outside the “furnace room,” as they had come to call it.
She stopped, momentarily shocked that he would speak to her that way, but then her ears picked up the sound of voices at the end of the tunnel. She and Jayden backed up against the slimy wall with Jole’s frail body supported between them. Skeet moved back into the shadows on the opposite side, rifle raised and ready to fire at anything that moved.
Squinting into the light, Zinni could make out two dark figures leaning against either side of the tunnel entrance. It was difficult to discern what they were wearing, but it was clear that they were armed.
“Hello!” one of them called, waving his arm. “Friendly! Friendly!”
Zinni heard Skeet shift his weight, unsure whether to proceed. She kept her eyes on the figures. They were watching and waiting as well, unmoving.
“Sergeant Duvo? Officer Vax? Friendly forces!” This time it was spoken in clear Haphezian.
“Here!” she shouted back. The four of them quickly began moving again with Skeet a few steps ahead, his rifle still up.
The two men proceeded into the sewer, followed by three others. Glow sticks were activated, illuminating the tunnel in shades of green, yellow and orange. The men surrounded them, relieving Zinni and Jayden of Jole and helping them along with gentle hands. “I’m Sergeant Major Anden Fay,” said the one who had first spoken. “Are you alright?”
“We’re fine,” Zinni replied, shrugging him off as they stepped into the gray light outside. It was cloudy and the air was wet and salty, but she paused for a moment and took it in anyway, grateful to be safe and out of the dark.
Fay ordered immediate medical attention for Jole and led them up the bank past four dead Sardons who had no doubt been responsible for guarding this entrance. Zinni studied them for a moment and then turned her eyes to the sky just as three fighters made a flyover mere meters above the top of some nearby trees. At least three flagships were visible at a higher altitude, and several gunships were preparing to touch down in the vicinity. GA officers ushered clusters of Sardon prisoners back and forth along the river, and explosions rumbled somewhere on the other side of the compound.
“How many of our people do you reckon they’ve got in there?” Fay asked, squinting up at Dakiti’s enormous structures with his arms folded across his chest.
“Realistically, we may never know,” Zinni replied. She found the military tags she’d stashed and handed them over to him. “It’s too late for many of them.”
“They killed Tantali troops too,” Jayden piped up. “Thirty members of the Tantali Royal Guard, executed without question.”
Fay swallowed, his face contorted with anger. “If it were up to me, we’d already be in there exterminating them like the animals they are, but Sheen is giving them fifteen minutes to surrender. Far too generous, in my opinion.” He stopped and glanced behind Zinni, wide-eyed. “Sergeant Duvo, where are you going?”
Zinni whirled just in time to see several soldiers surround Skeet as he was stepping back into the tunnel with a fresh rifle. “Skeet!” she hollered, sliding down the muddy bank after him.
“I’m going back for Ziva,” he said, his features stone cold.
“And I can’t let you do that, sir,” Fay said, taking a stance between Skeet and the tunnel entrance. “We’re going to level this place in less than fifteen minutes and you’re not going to be in there when we do. Now, we received word from Lieutenant Woro just before you came out – Payvan contacted him from inside and she’s on her way out. She wanted to pass the word along for you to personally oversee the recovery of your H-26s and escort Mr. Saiffe back to Haphez. She also wanted you to know that ‘that’s an order’.”
Skeet sighed. “Of course she did.” He reluctantly relinquished the rifle to one of the soldiers and manipulated his communicator, summoning the Scouts via the onboard AIs. “Alright, I’m going to need two of your men and a fighter escort, at least until we clear Sardon airspace. Zinni, Jayden, come with me.”
-54-
Sublevels
Dakiti Medical Research Center
Sardonis
Ziva didn’t even break stride as she downed two guards who had just appeared from around a corner. Thanks to a slip of the tongue on Bothum’s part, she had a good idea of where Aroska was. They’d made it quite clear that he had begun his “harvesting prep” – whatever that meant – and that they were going to place her in one of the “other two” rooms when they became available. The first place that came to mind was the bank of three examination rooms that they’d come across earlier. That makes sense, doesn’t it? Was it just wishful thinking? There were hundreds of rooms in this building alone, most of which were exam rooms or something similar. Her mind was racing as fast as her legs were, and she convinced herself that she knew what she was doing.
She paused where two hallways converged, attempting to re-gain her bearings. A large squad of approaching guards had forced her to find a new route, as she didn’t have adequate firepower to take them on single-handedly. Ziva once again felt as though she was running in circles through the eternal labyrinth of white corridors and nearly identical rooms.
The formerly quiet building had suddenly sprung to life once the military had arrived. The medical personnel were rushing wildly about, shouting frantically to each other in Sardon. Teams of hybrid soldiers mingled with them, most of whom didn’t pay Ziva any mind. She was able to take down the ones who did easily enough. Luckily they had more important things to focus on than a single intruder who could be disregarded without too much fuss.
After jogging a little further and studying the numbers on each room she passed, Ziva realized where she was and veered to the right at another intersection. The stairwell where she had been discovered by the probe dropped away from the floor directly ahead. Coming from this direction, the three examination rooms would be on the left this time. She checked the pistol’s diminishing plasma charge and hoped she wouldn’t run into too many more guards.
Ziva boldly stepped around the corner and took aim for one of the three sentries who were waiting outside the prep rooms. She recognized the other two as part of the group who had captured her only a little over twenty minutes ago. They reacted slowly, distracted by the chaos and noise around them. Ziva shot them both, as well as another guard who had been hurrying by and had drawn his weapon upon seeing her.
This particular hallway fell silent except for a high-pitched alarm that had begun screeching a few minutes earlier. Ziva could hear the rumble of ships passing overhead as she moved cautiously toward the nearest of the three doors, stepping over the dead guards as she went. The other two had been locked earlier, telling her that they were probably the ones that had been occupied. She took the access key from her belt and hesitated a moment before waving it over the scanner. If Aroska wasn’t in here, she had no idea where to go, and there wasn’t time to be running all over the building.
He was there – dressed in a new version of Jole’s white pants, wrists and ankles clasped to the table, head and chest strapped down. The sensors from the monitor were adhered to his upper body in no particular pattern, and an IV ran from a bag hooked to the machine into his left arm.
The IV and a medical bot that had seen better days were the only things new to the scene, with the exception of the man himself. His boots, clothes and flight suit were tucked neatly into the corner of the room, ready to be put back to use. The rifle he had arrived with was nowhere to be found.
Ziva fired a round into the bot’s face and it toppled over, dropping the dose of whatever drug it was about to administer. She stepped inside and pressed her fingers to Aroska’s neck, checking for a pulse. He was alive and breathing slowly, but his jaw was slack and his eyelids were fluttering.
“Aroska,” Ziva said, shaking him. She undid the straps from his head and chest. “Tarbic, come on.”
She grabbed the IV line and ripped the needle and catheter out of his arm, then did the same with the little sensors. The monitor began wailing and flashing red alert messages, so she fired another bolt at it and then tossed the dead pistol aside.