“Which you have already received,” said Jacks.
“But now we find ourselves in the position of facilitating the exchange with all the added costs and risks that it entails.”
“Added costs?”
“Primarily security, but there are other considerations. We are, quite naturally, uncomfortable with any activities which might draw attention to this facility. Someone might well have seen you arrive on the station. Someone might see you leave. It costs money to keep people quiet, as you well know.”
“I always imagined you had far simpler methods of ensuring silence.”
“True, but such methods incur their own costs. In any event, we like to keep our options open.”
“I am open to… compromise,” said Jacks. “You have a proposal?”
Saxman nodded at Grey who opened his briefcase and took out a large envelope from which he withdrew a sheaf of certificates.
“Government bonds,” said Grey. “Twenty five, each valued at one million credits.”
“We believe that under the circumstances, fifty percent is not an unreasonable figure,” said Saxman.
“Of the balance?”
“The total.” Saxman counted out five of the bonds and pushed them across the table. The remainder he returned to the envelope which he placed by his side. Jacks ignored the bonds in front of him and simply stared back at Saxman. “Come now Daniel, you have already received a considerable sum as a down payment.”
“You disappoint me, Kai,” said Jacks. “Haven’t we always maintained an equitable relationship?”
“Things change, Daniel, and in our line of business it’s important to move with the times. Commodore Jacks was valued client and we’ll be sorry to lose him, believe me. Commodore Jacks,” he mused, “It rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? But ‘Mister’ Jacks... well, it just doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it? And after this, your commodoring days will be well and truly over, won’t they, Daniel? And while Commodore Jacks was a useful asset, I regret to say that plain old Mr. Jacks will be little more than a liability.”
“I see,” said Jacks slowly.
“It’s nothing personal,” said Saxman. “It’s just good business.”
“Mr. Grey?” said Jacks.
“I am simply charged with making the payment on receipt of the merchandise,” said Grey. “How the payment is distributed is outside of my purview.”
“You haven’t received the merchandise yet,” said Jacks pointedly.
“As you both have a schedule to keep I suggest we attend to the matter directly,” said Saxman. He leaned over to his desk and pressed a button. A few seconds later a heavily built security guard entered the office.
“Escort Mr. Jacks to his ship and supervise the transfer of the package to Mr. Grey’s vessel.”
Jacks leaned back in the sofa, arms folded. “Actually, Commodore Jacks is happy where he is, thank you very much. He thinks he’ll tarry awhile,” he said.
“Come now, Daniel, be reasonable,” said Saxman.
“Tried that,” said Jacks. “Didn’t work. Time for a more… robust approach, I believe.” He unfolded his arms to reveal a small pistol in his right hand, pointing straight at Saxman’s chest.
“Everyone clear on what to do?” said Army. Everyone nodded except for Flash who belched loudly. Claude, the least drunk of the group set off for the tunnel between Zones 1 and 2, Flash and Jerry in tow. On Claude’s data-pad was a picture of Commodore Jacks, courtesy of Penny. “If you see Jacks give us the heads up, and try and slow him down if you can. Got it?”
“Yessir!” said Claude with a mock salute as they left.
“Well then,” he said to Penny. “Got your package?”
“Yep” said Penny.
“OK. Off we go. Don’t forget, we’ll be right behind you.”
Grey and the guard immediately stiffened at the sight of the gun in Jacks’ hand. Saxman just gave a small laugh and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Daniel, I’m really quite impressed. How did you manage to get that past the security scanners?”
“This?” said Jacks absently. “Oh, a remarkable piece of technology – the very latest thing in stealth weaponry. I’m reliably informed that it’s invisible to all conventional scanners, though I never actually put it to the test until today. Made of non-reflective, super absorbent monofilaments, whatever they may be – science was never my strong point. I’m told that the hardest part was making the power cell invisible. Difficult to mask all that energy, but, throw enough money at a government research establishment and they can come up with almost anything. Well, eventually.”
“Do I take it that you wish for further negotiation?” said Saxman, reaching down for the envelope at his side. On cue, the guard’s hand slipped inside his jacket and was half way out when Jacks calmly shot him in the head, the pistol making a small ‘pfft’ as a bolt of plasma shot from its muzzle. The guard collapsed onto the carpet beside the sofa, a wisp of smoke coming from a neat hole in the centre of his forehead.
“As you can see,” said Jacks, “It is also surprisingly quiet. Does leave a somewhat unpleasant odour, but nothing that a can of air-freshener won’t cure.”
Saxman gazed impassively at the corpse. “So where do we go from here, Daniel. Is it my move or yours?”
“Yours, I believe,” said Jacks.
Saxman weighed the envelope in his hand and then with a flick of his wrist sent it skimming over the table at Jacks’ face. In the same instant he launched himself out of the sofa, arms reaching for the weapon in Jacks’ hand.
The gun went ‘pfft, pfft’ and Saxman sat back down, two scorch marks in the middle of his chest, just where the heart would be. A small sigh came from his mouth as his head lolled to one side. He seemed to stare at Jacks for an instant but then his body jerked once and the life drained from his eyes.
“Pride,” said Jacks after a moment. “Greed will get you into all sorts of trouble but there’s nothing like pride for getting a man killed. Don’t you agree, Mr. Grey?” Grey just stared from one corpse to the other, head moving from side to side like a man watching a tennis match. “Are you a proud man, Mr. Grey?” Grey paused to look at the umpire and then gave a shake of the head. “So I imagine you’re not too proud to drag those two bodies into Mr. Saxman’s private bathroom.”
“I… no… no,” said Grey, finally opening his mouth to speak.
“Good job, too. I should get a move on if I were you. We don’t have a lot of time and I’m not renowned for my patience.” Under Jacks’ watchful eye Grey stood and heaved the very dead weight of Kai Saxman from the sofa and with some difficulty hauled the body the short distance to the bathroom. The security guard was even heavier and Grey struggled to manhandle the body around the confines of the office. At one point the guard’s foot became jammed under the desk. Jacks gave the offending leg a hearty kick, helping it on its way. Once the door to the bathroom was firmly shut Jacks picked up the envelope and government bonds and handed them back to Grey. “I believe these are yours,” he said. “Be a good man and put them back in your briefcase.”
“I don’t understand,” said Grey in bewilderment.
“I’m not sure what kind of deal you and Saxman agreed between yourselves and to be perfectly honest I don’t really care. As far as I’m concerned Mr. Grey, we still have a contract and I am a man of my word. Consider this a sign of good faith. From here we will go to my ship where you will take possession of the core and I will take possession of the bonds. If you attempt to renege on the deal or communicate with any of the security staff I will kill you. Is that clearly understood?”
“Very clearly,” said Grey.
“Do you know, it’s the first time I’ve killed two people in one day. Have a care, Mr. Grey – I’m on a hat trick.”
Clutching a cardboard box liberated from a garbage bin Penny walked along the docking bay until she reached the airlock leading to Jacks’ scout. She stuffed Stephen’s hat in her back pocket and fluffed up her ha
ir, trying to make herself look as attractive as possible. Pausing at the hatch she checked that her academy uniform was properly covered before pressing the intercom button. Expecting Commodore Jacks, Sergeant Fletcher was surprised to see a young girl waiting at the airlock. He should probably send her away but she made a welcome change from a bunch of ugly sappers.
“Hi, there. What can I do for you?” he said, opening the hatch.
“Delivery for Green 14,” said Penny.
“Delivery?” said Fletcher. “Unless it’s a pizza with pepperoni and onions I think you’ve got the wrong ship.”
“Not pizza, I’m afraid,” said Penny. “It’s a… variable positron converter.”
“Nah, wrong ship.”
“That’s funny,” said Penny, “It says Green 14 on the docket here. I wonder if–” She stopped in mid sentence and looked over her shoulder as two men entered the airlock tunnel singing at the top of their voices.
“I've played the wild rover for many a yeeeear,
And I shpent all my money on whishkey and beeeer,”
“Friends of yours?” asked Penny.
“No…” said Fletcher.
“And now I'm returning with gold in great shtooore,
And I never will play the wild rover no more.”
“What’s the game?” said Fletcher, immediately on guard.
“My good man,” said Army, leaning heavily on Stan. “We wissh to retire to our beds.”
“’Tis so,” said Stan. “Man the lifeboats and spare not the horses!”
“Man the…?”
“And it’s nooooo, nay never,
Noooo, nay never no more.”
“Bloody miners,” said Fletcher. “Off with you, before I call security.”
“Oh, don’ be like that,” said Stan. “Come on, sing along – it’s such a jolly tune!”
“I will plaaaaaay the wild roveeeeer,
No never, noooooooo mooooore!”
Army stumbled towards Penny who right on cue dropped her package at Fletcher’s feet. Fletcher looked down and before he had the chance to look up again Army slammed a fist into his midriff. The air shot out of his lungs with a whoosh and he dropped gasping to the deck. His soldiers training immediately clicked in and he rolled over, reaching to his belt but before he had a chance to do anything else his arm was pinned to the floor and he found the muzzle of a pistol pressed to his nose.
“Not a sound!” hissed Army. Fletcher considered making a fight of it but another armed man appeared at the big miner’s side.
“Checkmate,” said Stan with glee.
“Chuck,” said Army, “I’m glad you made it but stop waving the gun about. You’ll have someone’s eye out.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Chuck. “It’s not a bunch of bananas.” Army rolled Fletcher onto his back while Chuck tied his arms and legs with a length of electrical cable. A strip of duct tape across the mouth completed the job. Army made sure that the bindings were nice and tight before motioning inside the scout.
“How many more inside?”
“Just one, as far as we know,” said Penny. Army prodded Fletcher with the muzzle of the pistol.
“That right?” Fletcher just glared back. Army glanced into the scout. Inside the hatch was a space about three meters square, the inner air lock standard on all military craft. The far end opened onto a corridor which ran fore and aft. “What’s the layout inside?”
“Just the flight deck forward with a galley, a bathroom and a couple of small cabins aft. That’s about it,” said Chuck.
With no-one in sight Army crouched inside the door and motioned for Chuck to follow.
“I’ll cover you,” he whispered. Thanks a bunch, thought Chuck, creeping over to the entrance to the corridor. Which way to look… forward or aft? Get it wrong and you could get shot in the back for your trouble. Damn, it was never like this in the movies. In the end he hedged his bets, looking one way and pointing the gun the other. How damned silly was that? he thought.
“He’s not used to this kind of thing, is he?” Army whispered to Penny.
“Not really,” she said.
As luck would have it Benedict was looking aft from the flight deck just as Chuck did his two-way trick. Chuck, also looking aft never saw him but Benedict had a perfect view of the pistol which was by chance pointing straight at him.
As far as Benedict was concerned it was the last straw. During the last few years he had been cheated, used, abused, fired, deprived of his livelihood, spied on, tailed, kidnapped, detained against his will and threatened with death. And now finally, someone was actually pointing a gun at him.
“Don’t shoot,” he pleaded. “Just… don’t shoot.” Chuck spun around at the voice and saw Benedict with his hands raised, cowering just inside the flight deck.
“It’s all right, I won’t,” said Chuck. “Anyone else on board?”
“No, just me and the sergeant.” Army did a quick round of the scout to make sure and then joined Chuck and Penny on the flight deck. Stan stayed outside to keep one eye on Fletcher and the other one open for Jacks.
“All clear,” said Army.
“Are you the police?” said Benedict.
“Local defence,” said Penny.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I really didn’t. He said it was all secret government work… that I had to make all that trouble happen on Phoenix… and then he clubbed that poor man on Orbital One. He just hit him with a wrench and he fell down – I think he was dead. Then he said he’d kill me too if I didn’t do what he said.” Benedict was wringing his hands together as he spoke.
“Who?”
“Mr. Smith. He calls himself Smith but I don’t think that’s his real name.”
“Tall guy? Mid fifties, short silver hair?”
“That’s him.”
“Jacks. His name is Commodore Jacks. And it’s all because of this,” said Chuck, patting the container at the rear of the flight deck.
“It’s a computer core,” said Benedict.
“Yes,” said Chuck. “And a very valuable one.”
“I know – I designed it.” Chuck looked more closely at Benedict and then something clicked in his brain.
“I know you… you’re Spencer Benedict. I read about you in one of the journals. Worked for Comtec but got fired for something or other.”
“Professional misconduct.”
“What did you do?” asked Army.
“Nothing really, I just threatened to quit.”
“I’ve done that loads of times,” said Army. “Never got fired for it. Why didn’t they just let you go?”
“I think I knew too much. Still do…”
“Well, Mr. Benedict, whatever you knew we’re taking Hector back to our ship and I think you’d best come along with us. Can Hector be moved?”
“So long as the container is kept sealed there won’t be any problems.”
“Yeah, well whatever you do, hurry it up,” said Stan, hurrying to the flight deck. “Jacks is on his way.”
Claude had spied Jacks waking back towards the tunnel between Zones 1 and 2 and immediately shot off a quick message to Stan. At least, Claude thought it was Jacks, but in his alcoholic daze the tall figure with silver hair kept splitting into two and neither of them would keep still long enough for him to make absolutely sure. Flash and Jerry were no help either. Flash could barely keep his eyes open and Jerry, who was by chance still quite chirpy, was so short sighted he wouldn’t have known Jacks from a telephone box at that range. Either way, Claude was told to keep a look out for a tall guy with silver hair and now he had two of them. That was good enough for him.
“We’re nearly finished here,” said Army. “Can you hold him up for a while? Even a minute or two would help.”
“How?”
“I don’t know… You’re Johnny on the spot. Improvise!”
“He said to improvise,” said Claude, turning to Flash and Jerry.
“I’m on it,” said Jerry. “Is
that the guy?”
“Yeah, the tall one.”
“Who’s that with him?”
“Dunno… nice suit though.”
When Jacks and Grey were half way through the tunnel, Jerry entered from the other side and as they drew level he stopped dead in his tracks, proclaiming in a loud and only very slightly slurred voice, “Good grief, will you look who it is! How you doing?” He grabbed Grey’s hand in his own and began pumping it up and down furiously. “How long has it been? Must be… well a long time, anyway! Hey guys, look who’s here!” Claude joined Jerry in the middle of the tunnel, dragging Flash along in his wake.
“Where we goin’?” said Flash.
“See an old friend,”
“Never met him before. Don’t know ‘im from Adam.”
“Pretend you do.”
“Shan’t,” said Flash petulantly.
“Err, have we met?” said Grey doubtfully.
“Yeah,” said Jerry. “It was… it was… where was it Claude?”
“Got me there… was is on Triton?”
“No, no, no,” said Jerry, shaking his head. “That was the guy from Primus Metals. They do look a bit similar, though, I’ll grant you that.”
“I’ve no idea who you are,” said Flash, swaying like a corn stalk in the wind. “Who cares – fancy a drink? Bring your mate if you want. More the merrier.”
“Another time, perhaps,” said Grey.
“There’s a smashing little bar just back aways,” said Jerry, “They do an outstanding single malt. Isn’t that right, Claude?”
“A wonderful vintage,” agreed Claude. “Dignified, with a subtle but irresistible blend of flavours, spicy but with a hint of nuttiness.”
“Tastes like shit,” belched Flash. “Kicks like a mule, though.” Jacks took Grey by the arm and ushered him forwards.
“Go on, just a quick one,” said Claude. Grey wavered but Jacks, losing patience, lifted the left side of his jacket to reveal the pistol in his hand.
“Move aside,” he said.
“Ah…,” said Claude, stepping back. “Yes, well… my word, is that the time? Must be off. Let’s go, men.” Claude, Jerry and Flash retreated into Zone 2 while Jacks and Grey continued on to Zone 1 and the docking bay. As soon as Jacks was out of sight Claude sent a message to Army: ‘Did our best but target on his way’.
The Blunt End of the Service Page 23