It didn’t take long before she approached the ground, and Alexis dropped from the rope, her bare feet slapping the pavement. The rope collapsed next to her. She looked back; the woman was sliding down a different rope to a building farther down the street, above which a VTOL hovered. She dropped onto the roof as the VTOL moved in, then ran over to the craft, jumped in, and it roared up and away.
A brick on the building next to Alexis shattered. She winced away from it as she looked back to the hospital. Two men were standing in the window she had fled from. One was firing at her while the other talked into a radio.
Time to leave.
She dodged some refuse on the street and raced around the corner of the building as another laser round struck the building. She then sprinted down the street.
* * *
Dropship One, Approaching Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Apparently, Earth’s defenses—those of the Merc Guild, anyway—had bigger issues than a solitary dropship screaming through the atmosphere from one of the ships in orbit; no one shot at them on the way down. As the craft roared into the vicinity of the hospital, though, light laser fire reached up for them.
“I’m taking fire from the hospital,” the co-pilot said. “Want me to blast them?”
“No,” Nigel said. “I doubt we’ll win back the hearts and minds of our people if we start blasting hospitals and orphanages. Just take us to the west a bit, and we’ll jump out.”
“You got it, Boss,” the pilot replied, and the craft peeled away as the ramp came down. Five seconds later, the green light came on.
“All ashore who’s going ashore,” the pilot said.
“Thanks for the ride,” Nigel said. “Let’s go save the colonel!” Nigel yelled as he stepped off the ramp. The dropship hovered about 100 meters above the city, and Nigel used his jumpjets to land gracefully on the street below.
Cars slammed into each other as their drivers sought to avoid the giant metal figures dropping from the skies, and Nigel could see at least four accidents; one was a block away as a gawker spent more time watching them than where he was going.
“Alexis, Nigel,” he commed. “Where are you right now?”
“I’m east of the hospital…and on the run,” she replied immediately. She was obviously winded, and it didn’t sound like she had much left. “I could…use some…help.”
“Damn it!” Nigel swore. “We came down on the wrong side of town. We’ll be right there.” He switched to his squad net. “Follow me!” he transmitted as he blasted back off on his jumpjets. His squad—and a trail of vehicular accidents—followed in his wake.
* * *
CIC, EMS Shadowfax, Just Outside Earth Orbit
New Era’s shields fell, and the TacCom cried out in alarm. Instantly, the enemy battleships and the functional orbital installations concentrated fire on it.
“What happened?” Elizabeth happened. “Battle damage?”
“Not a chance,” her DCC said. “Their shields were still at half strength. Maybe someone on her crew had second thoughts.”
“If that’s the case, they committed suicide,” Evie said. On screen, New Era was being chewed apart. A ship more than a kilometer across didn’t explode so much as tear to pieces and cease to be a warship anymore. As soon as it was out of operation, the enemy fleet began to concentrate on the Hussars’ battleships once more.
“Are we still going to get that magic?”
“New contacts!” sensor ops called out almost at exactly the same time. “Three ships, cruiser size. They’re launching dozens of smaller ships that…”
“What?” Elizabeth asked.
“I don’t understand, ma’am. The smaller ships just disappeared!”
“Which way were they heading?”
Sensor ops was quiet for a moment, then he turned to Elizabeth with a smile. “They’re heading for the enemy fleet!”
“I have a transmission in the clear,” comms said. “It’s from the newly-arrived battle riders.”
A feline voice came over the CIC speakers. “The Depik have come to repay the Merc Guild’s treachery. Welcome to your deaths.” A second later, the first of the Depik ships, wrapped in its quintessence field, slammed into an enemy battlecruiser at high speed, directly into its engine section.
* * *
MGS Begalt, Approaching Orbit, Earth, Sol System
The Besquith smiled at Jim, who was trying to get back to his feet while shaking off the cobwebs from getting knocked on his ass. “Yes, get up Human,” the alien said, smiling with more teeth than a crocodile had any business having. “I don’t know how you got out of your cage…”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jim said, searching for a weapon, any weapon. Now he really regretted crushing the pistol in Romanov’s hand. The “boost” and “slow” icons were both shaded, and he couldn’t select them. He was only a few meters from the other locked down cells. I was so fucking close.
“I’m not supposed to kill you Humans,” the Besquith said. “But, near as I can tell, eating your arms won’t kill you.”
“No, but I will.” The Besquith spun as a firearm roared. A burst of bullets caught the alien in its midriff, sending it sprawling to the deck. As it fell, the shooter was revealed to be a grizzled old man of at least 90 wearing light combat armor and holding a smoking rifle.
What the hell is that? Jim suddenly remembered; he’d seen the gun design a thousand times in old 20th and 21st century movies. The old guy had a no-shit AK-47!
The Besquith snarled, ignoring the horrible wounds and clawed out a laser pistol. The old man moved quicker than Jim would have thought possible, and he put a booted foot on the Besquith’s hand and shoved the muzzle against its head. Bang! A single shot to the skull sent it to werewolf hell.
“You okay, kid?” the old man asked.
“Surprisingly, yes,” Jim said. He rubbed his jaw to make sure it wasn’t broken. “Who are you?”
“Name’s Dodd.” Dodd looked Jim up and down. “Yeah, you gotta be the Cartwright kid.”
Jim wasn’t wearing any logo on his uniform, so he was taken aback. “How did you know?”
“Ain’t many mercs as round as you who’d be a prisoner on this here ship.” Jim blushed slightly and tried to stand up straighter when a woman yelled from further down the corridor.
“Jesus Christ, Dodd, stop shooting the shit out of everything!”
“Don’t get ya panties in a bunch, girl,” the man said and spat on the deck.
“Can you help me get these cells open?” Jim asked Dodd.
“No, but Greenstein can.”
A woman, likely the one who’d yelled, came into view. Like the man, she was far from young. He guessed she was 50 or more, with the clear demeanor of a merc. She was also dressed in light combat armor and lovingly cradling a large laser rifle, the optic tucked in under her breasts like she was protecting an infant. “That the Cartwright kid?”
“Yup,” Dodd said. “Mika, call Greenstein and tell him we need a hack.”
She walked up to Dodd and examined the lock. She gave a snort and removed a pistol. Jim had just retrieved the Besquith’s laser pistol when Mika fired a round into the cell’s controls. The door buzzed in protest, then opened.
“I’ll be damned,” Jim said. “I only thought that shit worked in movies like Rambo.”
“Rambo?” Dodd asked, perking up. “You seen Rambo?”
“All five of them,” Jim said.
Dodd grinned and removed a pair of laser pistol mags from the dead Besquith and handed them to Jim. “I like you already, kid.”
Jim pulled the door open to see Cindy Epard against the back wall, eyes wide in fear. When she saw Jim, she sighed, ran forward, and grabbed him in a big hug.
“Thank God,” she said, crying on his shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Me? Look at you? Jim, you’re nothing but bruises and cuts.”<
br />
Jim hadn’t seen a mirror in weeks. He considered the working over he’d gotten from the Varangians and realized he probably did look a mess. “I’m fine.” He turned to Mika. “These four other doors, too, but shooting them might not get the same results.”
Another man came trotting up. He appeared older than Mika but younger than Dodd. He guessed this was Greenstein, because he immediately pulled out a slate and went at the other cell locks.
“Where’s the boss?” Mika asked.
“Coming,” Greenstein replied without looking up. “I take it that’s the Cartwright kid?” Mika grunted in confirmation.
“Okay,” Jim said, holding up his hands. “How the hell do you all know who I am?”
“Because I told them all about you, kid.”
Jim turned at the voice; something about it was immediately familiar. Walking down the corridor was a ghost smoking a cigar. “Murdock?”
The huge merc grinned and held out a hand. “Great to see you, kid,” he said.
Jim took it and did his best to match the grip. Murdock gave a “not bad” look and then grinned ear to ear.
“How?” Jim asked. “You’re dead!”
“I get that a lot,” Murdock said. Greenstein grunted, and the second door opened. “But maybe we’d better wait until later to catch up?”
As much as Jim wanted to know everything immediately, he agreed; Murdock was right. One after another, his fellow Raknar drivers were freed. Darrel Fenn next, then Mia Kleve, Seamus Curran, and Shawn Thompson last. The reunion was emotional for all of them, especially when the other five realized how horrible Jim had been treated.
“Why didn’t they torture any of us?” Darrel Fenn asked.
“You couldn’t give them the secrets of the Raknar,” Jim explained. “Not that I have them all, either.”
“They’ve probably taken them apart bolt-by-bolt by now anyway,” Mia said.
“No,” Jim said, then grinned. “They haven’t made any progress at all. Just before our Fae took off, they activated a protocol which made the reactors throw tons of radiation.”
“Who are these guys?” Shawn asked, indicating Murdock and his associates.
“Murdock used to be my first sergeant when I was first standing the Cavaliers back up.”
“I heard about him when I signed up,” Seamus said.
“We need to get you guys out of here,” Greenstein said. “Our shuttle is standing by.”
“Sorry about your toys,” Murdock said.
“What toys?” Jim asked.
“Your robots. Ain’t no way we can get them off the transport. All we got is a shuttle and a frigate.”
“Couldn’t move even one if we wanted to,” Greenstein said.
“Where’d you get so many of them, anyway?” Murdock asked.
“Are you saying there are Raknar on this ship?” Jim asked.
“Six of them,” Murdock said. “They’re latched to the outside.”
All six Raknar drivers spun at the sound of their partners in their mind, and looked in the same direction. Murdock and his two associates were both spooked and confused by the sudden coordinated action.
“Thanks,” Jim said to Murdock. “But we’re heading for our Raknar.”
“Kid, you’re nuts,” Murdock said. “There are MinSha marines on this thing, and some Human traitors, too.”
“Varangian Guard,” Jim said. Murdock nodded. “I wouldn’t mind running into them, especially Vels Lucas.” He checked the laser pistol he’d taken from the Besquith. It wasn’t made for his hand, so he wouldn’t be very accurate with it.
“So, you weren’t shitting us about him running those giant robots?” Mika asked Murdock.
“Two things I don’t lie about; giant robots and sex.”
“One out of two ain’t bad,” Greenstein said, and Mika grinned.
“Gotta go,” Jim said, and walked toward the summons.
“Jim…come on, kid; this is nuts. What can you do with those things? You aren’t on the ground; this is space.”
Jim stopped and turned to face Murdock. The look of determination on his face brought the old merc up short. “Murdock, I don’t have time for long explanations right now. Suffice it to say, I’ve come a long way with the Raknar.”
“Yeah, I saw what you did to São Paulo.”
Jim scowled. “That was war.”
“It was slaughter,” Mika said.
“You going to get out of my way or…”
“Or what?” Murdock asked, a slight laugh in his voice.
The other five Raknar drivers flanked Jim and stared daggers at Murdock and his people.
“You really want us to answer that, old man?” Darrel Fenn asked.
“Boy,” Murdock said taking a step closer. “You have no idea who you are fucking with.”
“Neither do you,” Cindy stepped up. “This is Jim Cartwright!”
“I know who he is,” Murdock said. “Better than any of you. I was there when this all started.”
“And now you’re here when it ends,” Jim said. “I know we’re almost in space, I know there’s a battle going on, and I fucking know we can make a difference. I’d order you to move, but you’re not under my command anymore. So, I’ll ask you to please just get out of our way.”
Murdock stared at Jim for a long moment, his eyes searching the young man for a sign. After a time, he spoke. “Mika, Greenstein, let’s get them to their Raknar.”
“Are you crazy?” Mika asked.
“No, they are,” Greenstein said.
“Maybe,” Murdock agreed. “But this kid has the heart of a lion. Maybe he can help.” He touched the control on his radio. “Kelso, grab some extra firepower and meet us at the corridor intersection just outside the shuttle. No, there isn’t time to explain. We’ll be there in ten seconds.” He turned to Jim. “Come on, Colonel, let’s go.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Alexis risked a glance over her shoulder as she turned the corner onto Muniz Barreto. She’d only run a block, but she was already spent. Like shooting pistols, running in gravity wasn’t something starship captains did a lot of, and being in a hospital bed for three weeks hadn’t helped.
Men were already racing toward her—men in the uniforms of the Varangian Guard. She couldn’t let them catch her, but she couldn’t go any further. One of the troops stopped and aimed a laser rifle at her, giving her the strength to make it a few steps farther around the corner and out of sight. A chunk of plaster blew off the building behind her.
She scanned the buildings down the street. She was too obvious in the hospital gown. She needed somewhere to hide, but most of the buildings had bars over the windows, doors, and even the access to them from the street was barred. The strains of a sad and mournful song came from the only open building she could see, and she staggered fifty feet down the street toward it.
Looking over her shoulder as she entered, she saw the men come around the corner and one of them met her gaze. Damn it! She wouldn’t be able to hide, after all. She lurched her way into the building—some sort of music bar—and continued through the open room where two men were playing guitar.
She wobbled a bit going through the door and found herself in a kitchen area. The music ceased suddenly behind her. The men following her had obviously entered the club. There were two other exits from the kitchen—one that led to a small patch of grass behind the building and a set of stairs. With no place to hide behind the building, she mounted the steps and stumbled toward the second floor.
She had just reached the landing of the second floor when the kitchen door below her exploded open, slamming into the wall. Several doors lined the hallway—probably the private rooms for the owners of the bar downstairs—and an iron ladder led to the roof. The ladder was at least familiar—all Human ships had them—so she started climbing. “Heading to…the roof,” she commed. It was all she had breath for, a
nd she paused for a second, trying to get some oxygen to her abused body, but then she heard men yelling below her, giving orders to split up the group, and she climbed as fast as her protesting muscles would let her.
She reached a cover at the top of the ladder and struggled to lift it. The heavy metal cover hadn’t been used in a while, and the hinges protested with a loud squeal. “She’s upstairs!” one of the men yelled. Her adrenaline spiked, giving her the energy she needed to push the cover open as the men pounded up the stairs behind her.
“There!” one of them shouted, and a laser bolt melted the lip of the access as she flipped off it and onto the flat, rock-covered roof.
She struggled to her feet, ignoring the rocks cutting into them, as boots rang on the metal ladder, and she swayed toward the access cover. Fingers appeared on the edge of the access as she lifted the cover and jumped forward onto it to close it.
The man on the ladder screamed as the cover cut off the tips of his fingers, and she could hear a huge commotion from below as the man fell down the ladder onto the people following him. Only seconds later, though, the access cover shifted as someone tried to lift it. He obviously hadn’t expected her weight, though, and was unable to move it more than an inch.
More scuffling came from below as the men organized, then, with a shout, the cover was thrown up as two men pushed up from underneath. Alexis flew to the side, landing hard on the roof’s rocky surface. Her whole body hurt, and she knew she was cut in numerous places, but she struggled to her feet, looking for an avenue of escape.
There wasn’t one. The building was higher than the ones around it, and she would have had to run to the edge and jump down at least one story to the next building. Running barefoot on the surface alone would have been difficult and painful. And the jump? It would have been a dangerous leap, even at full health. She was trapped.
Alabaster Noon Page 31