by John Bowers
Pinned Down
Click!
Nick recognized it instantly, the faint metallic sound of a bolt snapping shut. In the daytime, with ambient noise all around, he might not have heard it at all, but in the empty silence of night the sound carried. He wasn’t sure where it came from, but it seemed to be to his left.
He dove headfirst to his right, hitting the oily, hard-packed dirt on his stomach.
FF-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T!
The gun was surprisingly quiet, but the rate of fire was terrific. The car windows disintegrated and forty holes appeared in the vehicle at the same time. The car was between Nick and the gunman, so he wasn’t hit. He lay perfectly still, debating his next move. How many were there? Just one?
FF-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T!
Bullets ripped the car again.
Nick slowly pulled his .44 from his left-hand holster and transferred it to his right hand. Breathing as slowly as he could manage, he tried to keep his cool while the gunman decided his next move. Nick quietly cocked the .44 so it was ready to fire and pulled out Nathan’s .45 for his left hand; thus prepared for battle, he remained still another few seconds.
Peering under the car, he could see, dimly, the side street. So far he heard nothing to indicate that anyone else was approaching, so possibly his assailant was conducting a search on his own, or just watching the au’tel to make sure Nick didn’t slip through the net. Maybe he didn’t have a communicator, or just didn’t want to relay false information until he was sure what he was dealing with.
Whatever the case, he was moving across the street in Nick’s direction.
Nick could see his legs, stepping quickly in a half crouch, nervous and uncertain of himself. A rookie. Blinking against his nerves, Nick watched from under the car until the other man reached the parking lot; he was walking slower now, at a snail’s pace.
“Don’t shoot,” Nick said. Quietly, as if he were in pain. “Don’t shoot. I give up.”
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Nick Walker, United Federation Marshal
Bounty Hunter at Binary Flats
by
John Bowers
A Faster Than Light eBook
Published by John Bowers
Copyright 2015 by John Bowers
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by John Bowers
You are granted a non-exclusive license to this work. You may make copies or reformat it for YOUR OWN USE ONLY. You may not resell, trade, nor give this work away.
Created in the United States of America
First Publication: July 2015
Cover by Duncan Long
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters are a product of the imagination of the author and any resemblance to any real person, either living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Dedication
To the women and men of Law Enforcement.
No matter how much crap you have to take, hold that blue line.
We’ve got your back.
Chapter 1
Thursday, March 22, 0445 (Colonial Calendar)
Camarrell – Alpha Centauri 2
Twin suns glinted off the skytower across the street, casting afternoon shadows in two directions. The street was full of cops, two or three dozen, and three hover cruisers were stacked at different altitudes above the scene, their over-under lights flashing and laser rifles glowing orange. A police spokesman in an armored suit stood in the middle of the street, talking through a body-blaster.
The suspect was cornered. He had no chance of escape and knew it, but wasn’t ready to accept it yet. The cops had time on their side except for one thing—the female hostage. The gunman was crouched between two parked surface cars, holding the woman in front of him with his left arm around her neck. With his pistol jammed against the side of her head, he was almost as terrified as she was.
“Put your weapon down!” the spokesman said in a clear, patient voice. “Right now it’s only a robbery; you’ll be out in ten years. If you kill her—”
“Back off!” the gunman screamed. “If you shoot me, my gun will go off! I’m warning you!”
Panicked as he was, the gunman was too smart to point his gun at the police. The snipers would take him down the moment he moved it from the woman’s head. The cops moved in slowly, carefully, covering him from every possible angle. The spokesman continued talking in a calm voice, as if to a child.
“Come on, Edgar, what do you think this will accomplish? We can’t let you go, and you know that. Think about your mother, man…what’s she gonna do when she hears about this? You think she wants to bury her only son?”
“Leave her out of it! You hear me? Shut your filthy mouth!” A sob followed the outburst.
“You’re too young to die, Edgar.”
“If I die, the woman dies! You just stay back!”
The gunman, barely seventeen years old, began inching back toward the building where he had taken the hostage, keeping the gun tight against her head. The woman, a middle-aged housewife who’d had the bad luck to walk past the robbery scene at the wrong moment, sobbed in fear and tried to stay on her feet as he pulled her backward.
“Freeze!” Two cops on the sidewalk had him flanked, one from each direction. Their laser rifles were pointed straight at his head.
“Back off!” he panted, sweat sliding down his face. “I’ll kill her by reflex! I swear I will!”
From a rooftop across the street a holonews car lifted off and positioned itself above the police cruisers, giving its camera a wide angle of the action. Neither the cops nor the kid paid the slightest bit of attention. The spokesman continued talking in a conciliatory tone, reminding Edgar of all he had to live for. Edgar remained on the sidewalk with his hostage, stalemated.
It was starting to look like a very long afternoon.
***
Nick Walker saw the flashing lights from six blocks away and turned his hovercar in that direction. He’d arrived in Camarrell just minutes earlier, letting his GPS guide him to his destination. But flashing lights and hovering police cruisers were too good to pass up—something was going down and he had to see it for himself.
He set down a block away, just outside the barricade manned by uniformed officers. He stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk, gazing in the direction of all the excitement. He could hear the police spokesman’s body-blaster clearly. His adrenaline notched up a level as he started walking toward the commotion.
“Sorry, sir, you have to stand back. This is a restricted area.”
Nick glanced at the young cop who barred his way. A rookie, he guessed, less than a year on the job. Still afraid of everything and uncertain of his own authority…it was in the eyes. Without a word he lifted his right hand and showed the officer what was
in it. The kid’s eyes widened slightly; he looked Nick up and down, noting the twin holsters on his gunbelt. He nodded reluctantly.
“Okay. I guess it’s okay.”
Nick winked at him and walked on past. As he ducked under the barricade, he pushed his western-style hat down over his wavy brown hair and walked resolutely forward at a steady pace. Half a block from the scene, he drew both guns from his holsters and switched them, leaving the laser pistol on the left side and placing the .44 on his right. He didn’t expect to shoot anybody, but if it came to intimidation, the .44 was a hell of a lot scarier.
By the time he reached the scene, it was pretty clear that neither side was going to prevail anytime soon. Nick stopped just behind the rifleman on the sidewalk, watching and listening. He could hear the woman sobbing, and the kid was practically sobbing, too; Nick could hear his harsh breathing as he waited, trembling, looking for a way out.
Nick touched the cop with the rifle on the shoulder.
The cop jumped in panic and swung the rifle toward him, then caught his breath as he saw what Nick held in his right hand.
“Jesus, God! You nearly got yourself shot! Who the hell are you?”
“Stand down,” Nick said quietly. “I got this.”
He didn’t give the cop a chance to form a reply, but walked on past him, his attention focused on the suspect. Behind him the cop was talking to his superiors on his implant. The second sidewalk cop, who had flanked the suspect from the other side, was glaring at Nick in consternation, his rifle still aimed at the kid.
“Hey, you! Get the fuck outta here! Who do you think you are, Yancy West?”
Nick didn’t reply, but held up his hand for the cop to see what it held. He subsided in confusion, but didn’t lower his rifle. Nick approached the suspect, his attention riveted, but the challenges just kept coming. The officer in the street with the body-blaster weighed in.
“Hey! Get that goddamn cowboy out of there! Schumaker! Take that man into custody!”
“He has a badge, sir,” Schumaker replied.
“To hell with his badge! My kid’s got a badge—get him out of there!”
But Schumaker, the man Nick had tapped on the shoulder, wasn’t so sure.
“I think he outranks you, sir!”
Nick let them discuss it while he closed in on the suspect. The kid with the gun was staring at him with hollow eyes, sweat dripping off his chin. Nick saw desperation in his eyes and knew exactly how he felt. He drew the .44 and aimed it directly at the kid’s face.
“Let the woman go,” he said in a cold voice.
Panting hard, the kid swallowed. “No way, man. If I let her go they’re gonna kill me!”
“No, they won’t kill you. But I will.”
The kid was trembling so hard he was choking the woman. Nick heard her gagging for air.
“Let her go or you both die.”
“You back off! I’ll shoot her if you don’t!”
Nick smiled slowly, looking as evil as he knew how. “Promise?”
The kid blinked. “What?”
“Promise me you’re going to kill her.”
“What—why would you want me to do that?”
“Because I can’t legally shoot you unless you do.”
“You—you mean, you want me to shoot her?”
Nick nodded eagerly. “Oh, yeah, I really do. Then I can blow your head into tomato soup. I haven’t killed anybody in a couple of weeks, and I’m getting edgy. The minute you shoot her, I can kill you and nobody will care.”
A yellow puddle began to spread around the suspect’s feet. His voice became even more ragged.
“You’re crazy, man! You’re fucking crazy!”
Nick licked his lips like a famine victim looking at food. He tightened his grip on the .44 and pulled the hammer back with an audible click. He shook his head.
“Not crazy, just desperate. I really need to do this, so please, go ahead. Shoot the woman.”
Nick’s gun began to tremble, as if he were desperately trying to control himself.
The kid stared at him another ten seconds, every other consideration forgotten. The puddle of piss continued to spread across the sidewalk.
“Please!” Nick repeated. “Do it. Shoot her! Give me a legal excuse.”
“Get the fuck away from me, man! Hey!” The kid glanced over his shoulder. “Somebody shoot this guy! Help me out here!”
Nick edged closer to the kid, his whole body shivering.
“I can’t wait much longer! If you don’t do something, I’m just gonna fire, even if I hit the woman too.”
But the kid was shaking his head. “Go away, will you? The cops are handling it! Let them do their job!”
Nick laughed. “That’s pretty funny, coming from you. You said they were gonna kill you. Now go ahead and shoot.”
“No. Fuck you, I ain’t gonna do it.”
“You got to, man. I have to have justification.”
“You’re crazy! I swear to god, you’re nuts!”
Nick wiped his face with his left hand. His gun hand trembled harder.
“I can’t wait much longer. You gotta make your move.”
The kid swiveled his head to look at the cop behind him, then the one in the street. They were both staring in dumb fascination, afraid to intervene lest they trigger a killing. He looked at Nick again, at the raw hunger in those dark brown eyes. He lifted the barrel of his gun so that it no longer pointed at the woman’s head.
“I’m putting my gun down!” he shouted. “You hear me? I’m gonna let her go! Don’t anybody move!”
Still staring at Nick, panting through his mouth, he released the woman’s neck with his left arm and lowered his weapon to the sidewalk with his right. The woman, off balance, sank to the sidewalk with a muffled thump, still sobbing but uninjured. The kid raised both arms and kept his eyes on Nick, terrified that he might shoot anyway. Nick moved in quickly and picked up the gun; as the cop on the sidewalk moved in to cuff the kid, Nick holstered his weapon and helped the woman to her feet.
“Are you all right, Ma’am?”
Cops rushed in to contain the situation, surrounding the suspect. Paramedics moved in to claim the hostage. The man in the body-blaster was suddenly in Nick’s face. He looked about forty, his hair a light grey; his angular face was pale with stress, his eyes blazing.
“That was a pretty goddamn stupid stunt, mister! Who the hell do you think you are?”
Nick handed him the gunman’s pistol. “You’re welcome.”
The cop took the gun and handed it off to a subordinate.
“You didn’t answer my question! I told you to leave the scene but you disobeyed a direct police order.”
“I displayed my badge. I didn’t really have a lot of time to chat right then.”
The cop glanced at the badge, which was now pinned to Nick’s shirt. His eyes narrowed.
“U.F. Marshal?”
“That’s right.” Nick stuck out his hand. “Nick Walker, United Federation Marshal.”
“We already have U.F. Marshals in Camarrell. They never interfere with city operations. What the hell’re you doing here?”
“Just passing through.”
Chapter 2
Thursday, March 22, 0445 (CC)
Centauri Springs – Alpha Centauri 2
Four hundred miles south of Camarrell, Nick Walker found civilization again.
Camarrell was the southernmost city on the continent—only a fraction of Alpha Centauri 2 had been settled and the planet was wide open for immigration. The last four hundred miles had been beautiful, but desolate. No towns, no villages, no fuel depots. Not even a satellite tower. There was no road to follow, no monorail. Leaving Camarrell was like dropping off the edge of the planet.
Alpha 2 was surprisingly like Terra. Plains, mountains, oceans, forests—the topography was different but the two planets could have been born of the same star. Rivers, lakes, clouds, deserts. The daily rotation was almost identical. Even the wildl
ife was similar, and the planet was well populated with animals. The four hours it took Nick to reach his destination was a pleasant experience; he almost felt like the last man alive on a lush and thriving world, and when he finally arrived he felt almost disappointed to discover he was not.
His GPS guided him straight to his destination; almost the first thing the original explorers had done was to orbit a few satellites to assist in terrestrial navigation. As his hovercar soared out of a mountain pass he saw the town gleaming in the sun, a small settlement of only a few thousand people. The countryside around it was flat and green, but largely treeless. It looked almost like a prairie, but he didn’t see any crops growing. He wondered absently why the town had been built at all.
He slowed automatically as he approached. No roads led into the town from the north, but it did have paved streets. For just a moment he was reminded of Kline Corners on Sirius 1, where he’d been posted a couple of years earlier, but this looked nothing like that. Kline Corners had been a dusty, desolate settlement reminiscent of Terra’s Ancient West; this one looked reasonably modern…it just wasn’t very big.
The name on the water tower said:
CENTAURI SPRINGS.
***
He stopped for fuel in the third block of the main street, which appeared to be ten or twelve blocks long. Not surprisingly, the fuel was three times more expensive than where he lived in Trimmer Springs. Centauri Springs was so remote that everything had to be imported, driving up costs. He wondered what the locals did for a living, that they could afford such prices.
He set the fuel dispenser on auto and walked into the attached grocery store. A balding, middle-aged man stood behind the counter, his narrowed eyes scanning Nick from head to toe. His gaze finally rested on the badge pinned to Nick’s shirt.
“Afternoon,” Nick said.
The bald man nodded.
“Sure is. Where the hell did you come from?”
“Up north.” Nick reached for his wallet and handed the man a transaction card. “I didn’t even know this place was here. Last I heard, Camarrell was the end of civilization on this planet.”