by N. C. Reed
Anywhere else.
-
“Roberto has left the estate,” Wilhelm reported to the Master and Mistress of the house.
“Follow him,” Jerome ordered simply.
“It will be done,” the iron haired security chief nodded and left. Jerome looked at his wife.
“That must have been some kind of talk you had with our eldest offspring, my wife,” he said blandly.
“I merely explained the new dynamic to him,” Antonia replied calmly. “That his activities were known to us and that he would never sit where you are now, regardless. Also that his days of having any power or authority over family matters or employees was at an end.”
“I see,” Jerome sighed. “We have not heard from Antonio.”
“That is a good sign,” Antonia assured him. “If he were in difficulty or had he hit a dead end, he would have told us.”
“Even if they are making progress Antonia, we must face the fact that we may not get our Lucia back,” her husband said heavily.
“I will face such a fact only if we must,” she told him firmly. “Until we know otherwise, I choose to believe that she will be returned to us. Have some faith in Antonio, Jerome,” she urged.
“You know that I do,” he smiled wanly. Tiredly. “What do you think of his amico? Galen?”
“He is a dangerous man,” Antonia said at once. “Raised in the Arida to be a wahoun. War Hound. Dog of War.”
“The Aridas?” Jerome frowned. “Isn't that desert?”
“For the most part,” she nodded. “His mother hailed from the same tribe as mine. I cannot imagine how a woman of the Crystal Caves found life in the desert. Though I have always heard that there were oasis in the Aridas and that was where the War Dogs actually lived. In olden times, the desert protected them from others while also crafting some of the fittest survivors of the planet. And fiercest warriors,” she added almost in afterthought.
“And he is one of these. . .War Hounds?” Jerome asked.
“He is,” she nodded.
“You think that important?” he asked.
“It could be, yes,” she nodded. “But that is a discussion for another time, my husband,” she got back on track. “Now, we must turn to the trouble with Roberto. What are we to do with our oldest?”
-
Terase Falcone looked at the chrono and made her decision.
“Call the restaurant and tell them to send someone to look for Jamie,” she ordered. Sandy nodded and made the call. “Tell 'em we think something ain't right. He should o' long been back by now. I want them looking for him. Make sure they understand that,” she growled.
“Yes ma,” Sandy nodded, his face schooled.
“Sonny, go and check on the girl,” Terase ordered. “Me, Terry and Sandy are gonna back track Jamie. Maybe he's had trouble along the way, and maybe it's nothing, but I wanna know. Once you check on the girl, catch up to us. Lets go boys.”
“Yes ma,” a chorus of voices replied. Sonny was up and gone before the others, his ground car rocketing off toward the foundry ten minutes away. Behind him, his mother and brothers headed for town.
None of them noted the plain ground car that had sped by just ahead of Sonny leaving. It had passed them by when no one was at the window looking, all of the boys intent on their mother's orders.
-
“That it?” Sean asked, seeing a smokestack in the distance.
“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “Ain't been used in a long time. Decades, really. After the brother went missing they shut it down. I have no idea why. One man usually doesn't stop a place like that.”
“Maybe he was the only one interested in it,” Sean shrugged.
“Could be,” Tony nodded as he steered the car to the gate. A high fence surrounded the place, plastered every so often with 'No Trespassing' signs. Yet the gate was open.
“That's odd, don't you think?” he remarked. Sean nodded his agreement.
“Very.”
Tony took the car through the open gate and drove toward the foundry, his eyes roaming all around.
“There,” Sean pointed. “See that?”
“See what?” Tony was looking but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Tire tracks,” Sean pointed out. “Odd you'd find fresh tracks in a place so old that's been shut down so long, don't you reckon?” he asked. Tony looked again at the dark track, noting how smeared it looked as it began to fade, the further it was from the building.
“Looks like they drove through something like tar,” Tony observed.
“Follow 'em,” Sean said. “There's nothing else around here and that's definitely out of place.”
“Okay,” Tony agreed, turning to follow the tracks.
“That report says they took your sister away in a ground car delivery wagon,” Sean reminded him.
“That is true,” Tony mused. “They stop at that door,” he pointed to an overhead door in the distance. The tracks either originated or ended at that door, depending on where the foreign substance was picked up.
“I'd say they picked it up in there, whatever that is,” Sean told him. “Tracks only started inside the gate. That might mean they pulled inside. What would be in there, you think?”
“I have no idea,” Tony admitted. “I don't even know how a place like this would operate to be honest. You?”
“Never seen one,” Sean admitted. “Hide the car and lets have a look inside. This looks promising.”
Five minutes later they were standing at a pedestrian door around the corner from the door in question. Using a pry bar taken from the trunk, Sean popped the door open while Tony kept a look out.
“Careful now,” Sean said, handing Tony a small but powerful hand torch. “Might be someone here and might not. Remember he said they weren't keeping anyone here, but they were checking on her regular.”
“Right,” Tony nodded, his pulse quickening. If they were right, then Lucia was somewhere inside this foundry right now.
-
The foursome of Lincoln, Meredith, Faulks and Jess were about half-way back to the ship when it happened. Completely unexpected and out of the blue.
“Yo, Genessa!” someone shouted. None of the four bothered to look, not recognizing the name or the voice. It was a crowded street with people bustling to and fro.
“Genessa, wait up!” the voice called again, closer this time.
Suddenly Jess squeaked in alarm as a hand grabbed her firmly by the arm and whirled her around. Inside her mind a series of almost machine like movements had her hand moving before she was finished gasping in surprise. Fingers together, curled slightly at the tips, the hard outside edge of her hand struck beneath the chin of the man holding her arm, slamming into his throat with a sickening crunch that everyone heard plainly.
Eyes wide in surprise the man fell to his knees, taking Jessica with him as his hand locked around her arm in a near death grip. Face blue, gasping for air, it was clear that the man wasn't going to make it more than a few seconds.
“Who the hell is that?” Faulks demanded, even as she looked around them in case there was another threat.
“I don't know!” Jess all but screamed, fighting to get the man's hand off her. “He grabbed me and I punched him without thinking! I was scared!”
“We need to get some help or he's going to die,” Lincoln said calmly, falling to his own knees, he managed to free Jessica's arm and help the collapsing man to the sidewalk beneath them. He began convulsing as he lay there, fighting to get air into his lungs through an esophagus that no longer functioned.
“What do we do?” Meredith asked, kneeling by her husband's side.
“We're going to have to cut his throat open and tube him,” Lincoln told her, reaching into his pocket. He removed a stylus, opening it and dumping the guts on the ground, keeping only the steel tube.
“I need a-” he stopped as a knife appeared over his shoulder, already open.
“I cleaned it with this,” she held up a small flask. �
��Should kill anything on it.”
“Let me see that,” Linc said. Taking the flask he poured more of the bourbon on the man's throat and then onto the stylus barrel.
“Mere, have you called Emergency?” he asked calmly.
“No,” she started and reached for her com.
“I'm on it,” Faulks reported, com to her head.
“Thank you, Faulks,” Lincoln and Meredith said at the same time. Lincoln handed Jessica the stylus barrel.
“Hold this and keep it clean,” he ordered. “Mere, I'll need you to help me. Hold his head and don't let him move. Faulks, give that to Jess and then hold him down. If he moves while I'm doing this it will finish him off.”
“Got it,” Faulks said, tossing the open com to the girl as she moved around them to kneel astride the man, hands on his shoulder but low enough that Lincoln could reach his throat.
“Here we go,” he said to himself more than anyone else. Probing with his free hand, Lincoln found what he was looking for and gently pressed the knife into the man's throat, carefully slicing a vertical line through the trachea area. There was surprisingly little blood for a cut throat.
“What's all this, then?” a new voice demanded. “Here now, what'cha think you're doin'?”
Meredith looked up to see a uniformed police man watching them, hand on his gun.
“Stop that and step away, you hear!” he ordered, drawing his sidearm.
“If I stop, he'll die,” Linc said without looking up. “His windpipe is broken,” he explained as he took the stylus and pressed it to the slit he'd just made. “If I can't get him to where he can breathe, he's a goner.”
“And are you a doctor?” the officer demanded.
“Not lately, but I used to be,” Linc said, again without looking up. “I retired three years or so ago to follow my wife around the galaxy.”
The officer didn't know what to say to that and his com unit buzzed just then anyway. He answered it with his gun still in hand. A few terse words later he was talking again.
“Well, that was my dispatch, sending me here for an ambulance call. You call the Emergency Services, missy?” he asked Jess.
“Yes sir,” she almost squeaked, holding up the com.
“Very good then,” the man nodded, returning his sidearm to his holster. “How did this fellow come to have this broken windpipe, then?” he asked.
“He gra-”
“He assaulted my sister,” Meredith broke in before Jess could convict herself. “Grabbed her from behind and jerked her around as we were walking down the sidewalk. She's had a little self-defense training and when he grabbed her she swung at him. What would have hit a person her size in the nose caught him in the throat instead.”
“That right, little missy?” the officer asked. A clearly upset Jessica nodded shakily, tears forming in her eyes as she watched Lincoln work.
“And. . .there,” Linc said and suddenly the blue faced man was breathing, if raggedly, through the stylus barrel. His color was slowly returning when the ambulance arrived and two paramedics jumped out.
“Clear away, there!” one ordered hastily as he knelt beside the man. “Well,” he said after an assessment. “Who was it did this?” he asked, looking up as his partner continued to assess.
“I did,” Lincoln admitted.
“Fine work for working with nothing,” the man complimented. “You probably saved this guy's life.”
“Just something I learned in school,” Linc shrugged.
“Let's get him loaded,” the man told his partner, running to get their gurney. Two minutes later the 'victim' was loaded and they were applying an IV as the driver pulled away from the curb on their way to the hospital.
“I'll be needin' to speak with you folks and get a statement,” the officer told the four shippers. “From the sound of it, you aren't locals,” he added, after taking their names.
“We're shippers,” Meredith nodded, head still reeling from everything that had happened in that last few minutes. “We put in this morning. We had been out to dinner and were on our way back to our ship.”
“Where were ya eatin', then?” the officer asked.
“Rigotta's,” Lincoln offered. “We all had to leave because of a gas leak.”
“A gas leak?” the officer looked up, frowning. “Rigotta's is part of my beat and I've not heard of any gas leak.”
“We couldn't smell any gas ourselves, but the waitress brought us these,” he lifted his take out, “and told us we had to leave. They did give us the food on the house, though,” he added.
“I see,” the officer scribbled some notes. “What's your boat's name, and where is it berthed?” he asked. Meredith gave him the Celia's docking number.
“And when is it you were planning on leaving?” the officer wanted to know.
“Not for several days,” Meredith answered. “My husband has to have a cataract removed from his eye day after tomorrow, so. . .it'll be up to the doctor when we can go. From talking to him, I'd say at least a week,” she added.
“Hope it goes well,” the officer told Lincoln. “And you say you've no clue who this fella is now?” he asked Jessica, who was trembling now.
“No sir,” she shook her head. “I. . .he grabbed me and spun me around and it scared me and I. . .I didn't mean to hurt him. I did it before I thought!” she exclaimed. Inside her mind, she could almost feel the gears turning as her brain responded on instinct. Or something very much like instinct anyway.
“And what was it he called you?” the officer asked again.
“Vanessa?” Jessica asked rather than said. “Jenessa? I. . .I really didn't pay attention since it wasn't me,” she admitted. “I heard it, I mean. He was yelling I guess, but. . .I mean, it wasn't my name, so I kinda ignored it, you know?” she wiped a tear away.
“And he just up and grabbed you from behind was it?” the officer asked.
“Here,” she held up her arm, clearing showing already darkening bruises on her pale 'spacers' skin. The officer frowned and made a note of that, then raised his pad and took several close up pictures of the bruises. It was clearly a hand print.
“All right, I think that 'll do it, for now,” the officer told them finally. “Since you've said you 'll be here at least a week, I'm going to officially request that you stay here that week until we can sort this out. Possible that a detective will want to come out and see you, though I can't say for sure. Seems to me this is pretty open and shut as the saying goes. See here,” he punched a few buttons on the electronic pad and showed them the screen.
And there were the four of them walking along, not bothering a soul. From behind the unknown assailant appeared and grabbed Jessica, pulling her around to face him. Judging by how she jerked under his arm he had pulled her hard, which might have been where the bruising came from.
“Between the CCTV and your statement I think that's all we need,” the officer shrugged. “Like I said, pretty open and shut. I'm sorry you folks had to encounter something like that on my beat,” he said sincerely. “You can head on back now, if you're a mind. Ma'am, I didn't ask before, but do you think you'll need medical attention?”
“I . . . I don't think so,” she stammered, shaking her head. “We have a medic on board though. If I have trouble I'll see him, and if he thinks I need a doctor I'll see one.”
“Right enough then,” the man nodded. “Looks like I'm off to the hospital. You folks try to have a decent rest of the evening,” he nodded politely and headed on his way. The four waited for a minute, then turned as a group to head toward the Celia once more.
“Jess, do you have any idea who that guy could have been?” Meredith asked quietly.
“No, Captain,” the smaller woman replied just as softly. “I've never seen him before in my life. And I'm sorry that I caused such a scene,” she added.
“Wasn't your fault, Jessica,” Lincoln said to her. “That man came at you from behind and assaulted you. He shouldn't have. This is on him, whoever he turns out t
o be.”
“He's right,” Meredith said firmly. “We shouldn't be surprised I guess, being as this is about as lawless a planet as you can find,” she added darkly.
“I don't think so,” Lincoln said calmly. “The police were there in under a minute, and he was very professional. And it's not like the streets are overrun with criminals, Mere. This was just one idiot. Out of all these people we see, just one man laying hands on someone doesn't make a lawless planet. Some of the places we've visited in the last three or four months are a lot worse than Lucia.”
“Gotta agree with 'im on that, Cap'n,” Faulks said over her shoulder. “Remember Hartley Station, for instance. Not to mention Elvy. It was Elvy, wasn't it?” she frowned. “Yeah, it was,” she nodded, as if answering her own question.
“This planet is still home to an organized crime syndicate,” Meredith objected.
“Well, it still seems like a nice place, one idiot aside,” Lincoln shrugged. “And it looks it, too.”
No one could argue that. The streets of San Lucia were clean and orderly, with trees and bushes everywhere and a median along the street that was grassy and planted with native wild flowers. It was almost picturesque, really. Realizing she was fighting a losing battle, Meredith fell silent about the ills and ails of San Lucia.
“Let's get back to the ship.”
CHAPTER SIX
-
“Man it's dark in here,” Tony said as he switched on the small light.
“No windows or skylights and I'd say the power has been off a good while from the look of it,” Sean agreed. “Look,” he pointed and Tony aimed the light in that direction.
There in the dark sat a rather ordinary delivery vehicle, with only front and rear windows. Dark, dented and dinged, with a business name that Tony had never heard of before.