"Incoming!” Huxley yelled.
They dived for cover, arms over their heads, but when the small object didn't go off, they glanced up cautiously. A slow, steady stream of smoke was coming from it. Two more small objects were flung in, both smoking.
"Smokies,” Huxley said. “They're going to try and smoke us out."
No sooner had he said the words than with small pops the objects exploded and smoke filled the air, fast and thick and white.
"Cut The Demon from the rest!” A man ordered. “Take her alive!"
The crash of something tipping sounded loud, and there was another spatter of laser fire overhead.
"Demon! Stand up and announce your position."
Fat chance. On hands and knees Des crawled across the floor, her eyes stinging. Keeping low, she headed for the door, only to hear someone crashing against it from the other side. How many? She had no idea how many outlaws were at the front or the back of the store.
"Raf?” she whispered quietly.
"Here,” he whispered back. “Near the far wall."
"I'm crawling for the stairs. The rest of you hearing me?"
Huxley and Orde gave terse confirmations, though neither could tell her where they were, having dived for cover as soon as the laser fire started again.
"If we get separated, we'll meet at the back of Moresby's,” she whispered.
They gave confirmation again that they understood.
Keeping low, Des crawled across the floor, keeping close to the wall. Finding the stairs, she started to creep quietly up them when the back door burst open.
Not able to see where the men were, Des sprinted up the stairs. At the top, knowing that they were still down there somewhere, she sought to distract the outlaws by firing aimlessly at a wall.
As she hoped, she drew their attention and they started towards the stairs, cursing the smoke as they did so.
Her plan backfired, however, when she had no idea where her men were down below, and so she couldn't fire down the stairs at the outlaws.
"Shit,” she muttered, and ran.
"Des?” Simon demanded quietly. “Be careful."
"I'm trying!” She ducked into the nearest room and shut the door, sliding the bolt home. Backing across the room, she trained the laser on it. “I'm a little busy right now, Simon."
"Find a place to hide. I'm com—” His voice crackled and stopped abruptly.
"What the hell...” Des tapped the communication receiver. “Orde? Huxley? Simon?"
Silence greeted her, a faint crackling. Somehow, someone had jammed the signal that Simon had channeled.
She truly was alone now, not knowing where her men were, if they were all right, or what the outside areas were doing.
"Bloody great!” She swore and fired off a laser shot at the door when the knob rattled. “I have no idea if anyone can hear me through this communication receiver, but I'm keeping it in as I'm getting faint crackles through. I can't hear anyone apart from that. You all heard us before when communications went down, so hopefully you still can, even if it is one-sided.” She fired another shot at the door and heard someone curse. More boots pounded up the stairs from below.
If she didn't move, she was going to be trapped.
Going to the window, she peered out cautiously from the side. The streets were dark, only the fires casting ominous light, but it was enough for her to see men and a few women running. Most had lasers, and even as she watched, two women were cut down with laser fire.
"Surround the store!” Someone ordered from the other side of the door. “We can trap her!"
"Time to leave.” Taking one last glance out the window, she slid it open and crawled out onto the verandah roof. Crouching down, she peered around. A faint humming had her glancing up, and she couldn't help but swallow as she saw the black underside of the mystery ship slowly fly over her. If she stood and stretched, she could touch the metal.
A sheet of metal started to slide back, and she caught a glimpse of a face.
They were coming for her.
Scowling, Des started to back away, glanced over her shoulder and saw one of the outlaws coming through the window after her.
One burst of her laser blew a hole between the eyes of the outlaw, and no with no time to lose Des sprang up and ran across the verandah roof. Judging the distance, she leaped through the air and landed on the verandah roof of a burning tavern.
"The bitch is over there!” someone shouted.
A thud behind her made her glance over her shoulder even as she raced for the row of windows leading into the bedrooms of the whores and guests.
From the black ship had dropped three men onto the roof of the store. All three were hard-eyed, nothing unusual in that, but their faces were almost expressionless. They moved with a lethal grace, their gazes fixed on her.
Kicking in a window with one boot, Des shot her laser at the approaching men on the other verandah roof. They rolled, dodging the laser fire, and Des ducked through the broken glass, not even noticing the cut to her thigh.
Landing awkwardly, she felt the burn in her healing calf and cursed. Looking back through the window, she fired off more laser fire towards the roof where the three men had disappeared, then ran across the room.
Opening the door, she could hear the outlaws yelling below. The roar of distant flames could be heard, and she felt the heat coming through the floor.
"This may not have been your best move, Des,” she muttered. “Burning or shooting—hell of a choice."
A fleeting image of Simon flicked through her mind, but she had no time to think, to wonder what might happen if she died this night, because ... well, she had work to do.
"Get up those stairs!” A man shouted. “Never mind the goddamned flames! If The Demon dies, there's no telling what Canute will do!"
Down the other end of the corridor was a door, and in that door Des knew were stairs leading down to the ground floor and out the kitchen. The man who had once owned the tavern had weird ideas about the serving people using back entrances, or so he'd told Des when she'd hunted him down and found him trying to escape via those same stairs. She'd no doubt he'd planned it for escape purposes, but she'd been too quick for him.
He'd hung the next day for murdering two of his whores.
But those same stairs would now come in handy.
Without wasting anymore time, Des sprinted for the end of the corridor. As she passed the staircase, she heard someone bellow her nickname. It wasn't a friendly voice, either.
Almost thumping into the door, she wrenched it open, yanked it shut behind her and tore down the stairs as fast as she could. At the bottom, she peered into the kitchen to find it a mess, but unoccupied.
Undoubtedly they still thought she was upstairs in one of the rooms, hiding.
Smoke billowed in the side alley, and she crouched down and made her way to the loose plank in the fence. Lifting it carefully, she ducked beneath and let it fall quickly back into place.
The smoke cleared slightly at a small breeze, and she looked up to see the gleaming underside of the mystery ship still hovering above the tavern and store. In the light of the fire and the fogginess of the smoke, it looked mystical and menacing.
Was Canute in there?
Whoever was in there, he or she had to be one of the main leaders. The ship was fast. A leader would travel in a ship that could get away fast if necessary.
The ship had to be destroyed, or at least disabled.
She knew just how to do it, too, if luck was on her side.
A lot of the outlaws had gathered near the burning tavern, and Des smiled grimly. That just made it easier for her.
The night outside the settlement was dark, but there were fighter craft patrolling the night sky. As the tavern behind her started to collapse, she saw several of the outlaws posted in various areas of the street turn and watch.
And that was the break for which she'd been looking.
Moving quietly, keeping close to the ground a
nd the shadows, she moved stealthily.
The Enforcer Building was a deserted smoldering ruin, but half of the docking bay behind it was still intact. One of the pursuit crafts was half buried under rubble, but she had no doubt it was still useable. They'd been made to take a fairly tough knocking. Or she hoped so.
The glass on the pilots’ shield was broken, and Des carefully slipped through it to land on the driver's seat in a crouch. Carefully sweeping the broken glass away, she sat down and checked the controls. It was all in working order, but she held her breath until she heard the engines whine faintly before settling silently. The power surged through the pursuit craft, making it shake a little which was definitely not normal, but as long as it flew, Des had no complaints.
Taking a deep breath, Des said quietly, “In case anyone hears me out there, this is my plan. I've got hold of a pursuit craft and I'm about to attack the mystery ship. I believe the leader—or one of them—is in it. I'm going to try and bring it down. It may or may not work.” She paused then continued. “A lot of people are dying out there, and we can't help them all. The streets are now full of outlaws. This might be the only way to cripple them enough to allow the law in. If it doesn't work and all goes wrong, well ... Dad, I love you. Simon, you know where my lycats are for later pick-up.” She rubbed her thumb along the console. “It's been a pleasure working with you people. All of you.” Licking her lips, she stared at the smoldering ruin of the Enforcer Building. What she wanted to say aloud wasn't easy, not knowing so many people could be listening. Not when she wasn't used to being so...
"What the hell. Simon, I love you. I just thought you should know.” Shaking her head, she sighed. “I'm no good at this. You probably won't hear it anyway. I just thought ... you know ... that you should know ... yeah.” Bugger. Taking a deep breath, Des focused on the task ahead. “Here goes."
* * * *
"Des, nay!” Hearing her words, Simon grabbed the armrests. “Lass, I'm nearly there! Don't!"
But she couldn't hear him. Cursing, Simon stared at the scanner. He could hear everything she said, everything around her, just as he could hear the other peacekeepers, but none of them could hear anything said to them.
"We're landing,” Aamun informed Simon tersely.
Simon was already running down the corridor. The platform lift clanked as it descended, and by the time he leaped out into the cargo hold, he saw his friends there. They were all carrying lasers, all cloaked. All grim-faced.
All with the air of danger around them. Nothing of the laughing, good-natured Daamens showed.
His own laser was holstered at his side, and Simon flung his cloak over his shoulders. Running down the ramp, he met Adin and his peacekeepers. Their pursuit crafts were docked nearby.
"What's the plan?” Simon asked tersely.
"That civilians stay here,” Adin replied.
"Nay. We're going in."
"You'll be slaughtered."
Simon's face hardened. “My lass is in there, and right now she's on a possible suicide mission. ‘Tis no way in hell I'm staying behind."
Adin swallowed, tilting back his head to look up at the giant towering over him. “You're a civilian—"
"I'm a Daamen, and a Daamen doesn't leave his lass in danger. With or without you, we go in."
Shamon came to stand beside Simon. “Better with us than without, don't you think?"
Benel, his arm bandaged and face smoke-smudged, but otherwise unscathed, stepped forward. “Adin, these Daamens are no fools. They've been in the middle of battles before. We're outnumbered now, but with these traders our odds are evened a lot."
"They walk in there and they'll be shot without hesitation,” Adin growled.
"We don't intend to simply walk in unless ‘tis warranted,” Simon replied.
"You have a plan?"
"Do you?"
Adin frowned. “The military won't arrive until tomorrow night at the earliest. With the threat in the area, the peacekeepers of the three closest settlements are spread thin, and those three include us. More are coming, but it'll be at least two hours until the closest arrive."
"Four hours too late,” Simon stated. “Des is making her move now."
Adin stared towards the bright glow on the horizon.
"When she makes her move, ‘twill cause chaos. We should make our move then,” Simon said.
"And what are you going to do? Fly in on your trade ship? They'll shoot you out of the sky."
"We know where the fighters are. Aamun can guide you to them. You take those out, and then come in with lasers firing."
"And where will you be?"
Simon smiled coldly. “Don't worry about us. We're good at surprising the enemy."
"I didn't think you had any,” Adin said bluntly.
"We do now. Those bastards are after Des, and that makes them our enemies."
Adin sighed. “You think any of you will get away alive? Those outlaws down there will kill you!"
"Don't worry about us,” Simon said again.
Adin shook his head. “I don't have the manpower to stop you."
"Nay, you don't,” Simon replied quietly. Swinging around on his heel, he nodded to the five traders waiting for him. “Get ready."
Coming down the ramp, they stepped onto travel discs, the fast mode of transport that wouldn't be picked up by radar, and enabling them to get close to the settlement under cover.
Plus they had the trade ship as a surprise tactic if necessary. And another ace up their sleeve if all went well.
A very big ace.
Looking up at the sky, Simon smiled grimly. The ace was coming now.
The peacekeepers gaped upwards in shocked surprise.
* * * *
Canute frowned as he watched the tavern collapse in a shower of sparks. “She's not in there."
"How can you be sure?” Zared asked.
"Desdemona is no fool. She's cunning.” Canute drained the glass of wine and set it on the bench with a sharp snap. “She's gotten out of there."
"The men are still searching. They haven't found her, only a couple of injured peacekeepers."
"She's out there somewhere.” Canute nodded at the visual screen. “I have three of my very best assassins searching for her. Three of my personal guards. They'll find her."
Broodingly, he watched the scene unfolding before him. A lot of the settlers were holed up in their homes, which was right where he wanted them. They'd bring good prices on the slave markets back in the inner sanctum of the Outlaw Sector.
But not Desdemona. She belonged to him.
The loud pealing of an alarm broke the peace inside the ship, and he jerked his head up, frowning, his eyes scanning the radar for a sign of the intruder.
"Pursuit craft closing in,” one of the pilots stated. “Request fighter assistance now."
Narrowing his eyes, Canute studied the approaching pursuit craft. Battered for certain, but being piloted with grim determination. It was heading for his ship.
And then he recognized the pilot of the pursuit craft. “Why, Desdemona. Do you really think your little lasers can do much damage? Foolish woman, I'd given you more credit than that."
"Closing in!” the pilot yelled. She's not firing her lasers, I think they're jammed, but Sir—” His eyes widened. “She's going to fly right into us!"
The woman wasn't so foolish—or was she? Disturbed for the first time, Canute grabbed the backrest of the seat. “Move! Move us up!"
He felt the ship start to lift, but a jolt on top made it lurch. Coming down in answer to the order for assistance, the outlaw fighter had obviously hit the top of the suddenly moving ship, and it careened out of control and smashed into the opposite side of the street, the explosion rocking Canute's ship, throwing it momentarily off-course.
Through the visual screen he saw Des's face. Her eyes were intent, fearless ... and she was getting out of the pilot seat, standing up—and then jumping.
"She's going to crash into us!” The pilo
t yelled.
There was no time to move before the pursuit craft smashed into the side of Canute's ship, the resulting explosion rocking the ship, making it shudder and sending everyone not belted into a chair flying across the cabins to crash painfully into the walls.
Over the explosion Canute heard the groaning of metal, the popping and giving of the outside of the ship as the force of the explosion and the blow of the pursuit craft crashing into it caused extensive damage.
If they'd moved faster, the pursuit craft would have flown right past under them, but the fighter pilot, ironically, had been obeying and unwittingly stopped their getaway.
Now his precious ship was damaged.
Picking himself up off the floor, he saw his pilot try to regain control of the console, but it sparked and smoked, and the ship tilted. Almost in slow motion it started to right itself, but smashed into the two story stone building. Canute felt the ship drop, tilt once more and then crash to the ground, throwing him once more to the floor to roll helplessly across it, crashing into other bodies as he did so.
The creaking of tortured metal grated loudly, and there was a buzzing in his ears. Shaking his head, he looked up to see the pilots frantically pushing at the controls.
"Engineer!” Canute roared. “Report!"
It took several seconds before there was an answer. “Sir, the pursuit craft damaged part of the wall, causing it to push into the engine. I think I can fix it, but not immediately. It'll take me several hours—"
"We don't have several hours,” Canute snarled. “Fix it now or you'll be hung from the front of the ship for all to see!"
"Yes, Sir!"
Enraged, he allowed his temper to blow. Swearing and letting out almost animal grunts of and howls of fury, he grabbed one of the hapless cabin crew and pounded his head against the wall until the blood flowed. He shot the man who attempted to help his fallen friend, and then he slithered over to the quaking pilot and shot him between the eyes.
Still shaking with rage, his anger not nearly appeased, Canute pointed the laser at the second pilot, a hard-eyed outlaw who was watching him warily.
"Get this ship flying within the hour or I'll kill you,” Canute hissed.
Heart of a Peacekeeper Page 37