The Blackstar Gambit

by Jan Domagala

  At each side of the road, the terrain dropped away into an area of bushland. Kurt threw himself into it, as did Zara. They had moved so fast that those shooting didn’t know who to target and by the time they had decided it was too late, Kurt and Zara were gone.

  From behind a dense bush, Kurt spotted the shooters looking up from behind their vehicles. Taking aim fast he shot the one nearest to him.

  The bolt struck the man’s head snapping it back as he toppled over.

  The men on either side of him turned to look at where the shot had originated. Zara saw her opportunity and shot one of the other men nearest her. His death had the same effect on those next to him as the first man’s.

  Panic took hold of the others as they realised this was not going to be as easy as they had been told.

  Plasma bolts peppered the undergrowth where Kurt and Zara were as the men opened fire on them with everything they had.

  Kurt and Zara had moved though sliding through the dense brush-like wraiths, working their way around to a better advantage point. They were almost level with the men shooting at them and they reared up fast, arms outstretched before them holding their Sig’s out ready to fire.

  When the shooters saw them, it was too late. Kurt’s next four shots took out the men on his side while Zara did likewise to those facing her.

  10.20 s.e.t.

  Tyler could only watch as his men were taken apart by these two.

  Who were they? He had been told it would be a cakewalk, an easy task to capture two individuals. They had told him nothing about them having military training and reflexes like he’d never seen before.

  This had turned into a complete disaster. His entire crew, save for the two with him in his vehicle, had been decimated in under ten minutes. This called for a total rethink.

  He got back in his vehicle and backed down the road as fast as he could go being careful not to run into anything coming up from behind. He was lucky though this road was deserted and he got to the end, turned around and drove off towards Haven, the small coastal town where he had taken lodgings.

  He would have to inform Patten but that could wait until he’d processed what had happened in his own mind. Something was not quite right with this op and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

  He allowed his mind to go over what he’d seen as he drove on in silence.

  10.23 s.e.t.

  Once the shooting stopped the other ATV hightail it out of there. Kurt walked over to the carnage to check out the scene.

  Zara met him there, also looking up the road at the retreating vehicle.

  “Was it something we said?” she asked without a trace of sarcasm.

  “Perhaps something we did?” he added in the same tone.

  “We should ask next time we bump into him,” she suggested.

  “No doubt we will at some point,” Kurt said before turning his attention to the dead bodies lying there. “Check to see if they’ve blocked their IDs,” he finished.

  Anyone with a Neural Interface could be identified by simply reading the data it contained. The small device was embedded into a part of the brain and was encoded with all the data needed for a fast ID check such as DNA, which couldn’t be changed or masked unlike other identifying details such as dental records and fingerprints which could be altered. Certain military factions, usually covert ops, found a way to bypass this method by masking or blocking the data on the NI. This was both difficult and risky for it could impair the functionality of the implant.

  Zara got to work linking her NI to those of the bodies lying around them as fast as she could before the residual charge from the brain activity that powered the NI waned.

  She looked up at Kurt who was doing the same and shook her head.

  “These are either high end mercs or black ops from some government unit, I’m getting nothing,” she noted.

  “Same here,” he agreed. “We’d better call this in. I’ve a feeling there’s a lot more to this than what we’re seeing here,” he added as he stood back to check things from a different angle.

  “What’re you thinking?” Zara asked when she saw him deep in thought.

  “I was just wondering how long these guys have had us under surveillance and what they wanted.”

  “Do you think someone else has found out about what we can do?” she asked as she saw the look in his eyes.

  “If they had I would’ve thought they’d have sent more guys, but it’s definitely something we need to find out about.”

  “I agree,” Zara said.

  Kurt looked at her, gave the bodies another cursory glance then looked up. He looked out into the distance where he could see his home and the ocean beyond. He turned to look at Zara once more and said, “I really hoped we’d have a bit more time before this happened.”

  Zara placed a consoling hand on his and smiled. There was nothing she could say to that. They both knew that their secret would not remain theirs alone for very much longer, but she sympathised with his regret.

  Squaring his shoulders, he accessed a secure sub space comm link to his boss at Col Sec HQ.

  When it connected he said, “General, I may have some bad news.”

  3

  11.00 s.e.t.

  “So we’re here again,” Zara observed as Kurt pulled the Champion into the drive of the safe house they first visited a while back just after they met.

  After his brief conversation with General Sinclair, they had time to pack a few things and leave for the city. He chose the Champion for the safety aspect. If there was another attempt on their lives, they stood a better chance in the ATV rather than his other car, a bright red roadster, a sleek sports hatch that he dearly loved to drive.

  “Yes, the general said we’d be better off here where we can be monitored rather than back at home,” he replied as he steered the huge ATV up the shaded tree-lined driveway to the large house at the top.

  The drive came to a stop in front of a large mock Georgian-style house from Earth’s history. Two stone pillars stood abreast of the large front door at the top of three steps. They could see two large windows on the ground floor and the same on the floor above.

  The security was tight starting with a full body scan at the gates, which checked their ID as they entered plus a variety of other measures that would disable any potential threat from gaining access to the house.

  “I love this place, I could quite happily live here.” She beamed as they got out of the ATV. Seeing his hurt expression she quickly added, “It’s not as nice as your villa, obviously.”

  Stifling a laugh he said, “Come on let’s go inside, we have the place to ourselves until security gets here.”

  11.05 s.e.t.

  Goran Visjic stood outside the small hotel room staring at the door. He knocked; he knew the man he wanted was in there, he’d watched him enter a short time ago.

  Tyler Sosa opened the door and looked at the man facing him.

  “Yes, can I help you?” he asked not liking what he saw.

  Visjic was flanked by two other men; equally as intimidating. Sosa was no coward but he recognised trouble when he saw it and he was looking in its eyes right now.

  “You most certainly can,” Visjic agreed, placing his palm on Sosa’s chest and pushing him back into the room.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he blustered ineffectively as he was shuffled back into the centre of his room.

  “Let’s not play any games here. I know who you are, I have read your rather impressive military record and I know who you are working for at this point in time. I also know you’ve been sent here to procure a certain individual for your employer. Your employer needs this certain individual to fulfil his obligation to me.

  “If you tell me the name and whereabouts of this individual you can leave of your own free will. If you do not, I will extract the name and it will not be pleasant,” Visjic warned, looking deep into the eyes of the man before him.

  Visjic saw in those eyes fear, but not fear o
f him, at least not all for him. What he saw was something else; this man was already scared before he had knocked on the door.

  “On any other occasion I’d tell you to go fuck yourself. I have a contract and my reputation stands or falls on whether I keep to my contracts,” Sosa blustered but his voice faltered.

  “Why is this occasion any different?” Visjic asked, deep lines furrowing his broad brow.

  “The person I was sent to capture is not normal. He and his girlfriend cost me ten of my best men. They wiped them out in a matter of minutes, and we had the drop on them too,” Sosa explained, the words tumbling out.

  “Who were you sent to capture?” Visjic asked.

  “Kurt Stryder and his girlfriend Zara Hardy,” Sosa said regaining some of his control. “You can have ’em, they’re trouble.”

  Visjic knew the name; Stryder had been the subject of an op one of his old bosses, General Solon had run,. It had been called off when Solon was killed in an accident at a facility on Toldax, or so he thought. Perhaps there was more to this than he had been told.

  “Thank you,” Visjic said. His hand appeared from inside his jacket holding a gun. He shot Sosa in the head sending him crashing to the floor in a shower of blood and gore.

  He turned to face the door showing as much emotion as if he had trodden on a bug.

  “Send a clean-up squad to this address then assemble a full team. We have work to do,” he ordered then left the room.

  11.20 s.e.t.

  Visjic strode onto the deck of his yacht, The Helena, anchored out in the bay opposite Haven, the ocean-fronted resort area.

  He went through the doors to the bridge and slumped into the command chair.

  The First Officer was standing watch overlooking the bay through the wide bridge windscreen.

  “Everything is running fine, sir,” he offered.

  “As it should. Access the satellite feed over this planet, but do it discretely I don’t want anyone to know of our intrusion. I want to know the recent movements and current whereabouts of Kurt Stryder. Not only is he a native of this planet but a member of Col Sec,” Visjic commanded.

  “Aye, sir,” the First Officer complied and he nodded to the Ops officer. This yacht was run like a military vessel, based on the background of the crew they could do no other.

  Visjic ran a Tactical Operations group within the Alliance’s Intelligence Network known simply as, BlackStar. It was a tightly run outfit with a core membership of only a few, all highly trained military Special Forces, the Black Knights.

  Visjic had virtual autonomy where his missions were concerned. He picked his own and ran them his way, all for the betterment of the Alliance and his Masters. His loyalty to his Masters though was unbounded and he would do anything to further their cause.

  Within a few moments of issuing the order, Visjic had his results. His operative had tracked the signal of Kurt’s ID tracker in his NI from his home where the attack took place, and followed it to his present location, the safe house.

  As Visjic looked at the small pad that showed the safe house, he smiled.

  “Okay Captain Stryder, let’s see if you’re as good as you appear,” he muttered quietly. Looking up he saw someone standing there and said, “I want a tactical team prepped for an assault. Before they move them I want to grab them.”

  “Copy that, sir,” he heard the man say, but already his attention was back on the screen in his hand.

  4

  12.00 s.e.t.

  Kurt was lying on the bed in the master bedroom, his hands behind his head trying to relax while they waited for their ride to arrive.

  “How long before it gets here?” Zara shouted from out on the balcony overlooking the rear garden area.

  “I don’t know, but it can’t be long,” he said around a yawn.

  “If we’d known it would take this long we could’ve had some fun,” she chortling as she turned to look at him.

  “It’s never too late,” he agreed with a wink.

  He saw her expression change suddenly as she stepped into the bedroom, the doors to the balcony still ajar.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, and then he heard it too.

  The sound of a high-powered engine as it came in to land.

  He looked through the window, Zara spun around too. He saw a jet copter appear over the rear lawn. Zip lines were thrown out the side panel opening, and several figures flew down them. Each figure was dressed in black combat gear and armed with assault pulse rifles.

  Once they hit the ground, they ran towards the back of the house.

  “How the fuck did they breach security?” Zara wondered aloud.

  “No time to worry about that now. We need to move,” Kurt encouraged. He ran over to the wall and operated a panel that slid open to reveal a cache of weapons. He picked two Sig P999 pistols and tossed one over to Zara. He tucked his into the waistband of his pants at the small of his back. He then selected two Remm M25 pulse rifles and tossed one to Zara too. He closed the panel then turned to her, his face grim.

  Her expression mirrored his, as she said, “They’re jamming comms.”

  “Makes sense, it prevents us from calling for back up, it’s what I would do,” Kurt agreed.

  “We need to move from here,” Zara insisted just before they heard a crashing sound from below.

  12.05 s.e.t.

  “This way,” Kurt urged as he ran to the bedroom window.

  As he neared it a gunner stationed in the open side panel of the hovering jet copter opened fire with a pulse cannon.

  Pulsed plasma bolts battered the walls around the window sending shards of plascrete raining down on him.

  He vaulted the balcony and leapt the fifteen feet down to the ground. On impact, he allowed his knees to bend as he went into a perfectly executed parachute roll.

  Zara followed him through the space in the wall without any hesitation, executing the landing just as expertly. They both came up onto their knees with their pulse rifles at their shoulders. They opened fire and peppered the opening, forcing the gunner to duck back inside.

  Shots hit the ground at their feet from above kicking up divots of grass and earth.

  “They’re at the window,” Kurt announced.

  “State the obvious why don’t you?” Zara countered sarcastically.

  Kurt raised his rifle and fired at the window. Zara copied his action and their plasma bolts forced the gunmen back inside the window.

  Seeing an opportunity, Kurt turned and ran for the hovering jet copter. He tossed the Remm onto his shoulder via the strap, as he ran and leapt for the zip lines still hanging from the open side panel.

  He caught the nearest one and quickly began to climb, hand over hand until he reached the gaping wide panel.

  He saw the shocked look in the gunner’s eyes as he appeared over the edge, giving him time to do what he did next. Reaching out he grabbed the gunner’s right foot and tugged. The gunner was violently pulled off his perch and slid towards the opening.

  Kurt was clambering up onto the edge as the bewildered gunner was going the other way, arms flailing as his wide-eyed stare told of his surprise and horror.

  The man tried to reach out and grab anything to prevent him flying out of the open door, but Kurt swatted his hand away as he tried to grab his leg. Zara was behind him on another zip line and she gave the gunner the final shove and he went hurtling out into the void, his screams drowned out by the noise of the engine.

  As the two of them pulled themselves up into the cabin space, plasma bolts struck the side of the jet copter making it veer away from the building.

  Inside the craft, Kurt made his way forward into the pilot’s section, whilst Zara remained in the rear compartment near the pulse cannon. She grabbed the controls and before the jet copter had completed its turn let loose with a fierce barrage of plasma bolts back at the window.

  She saw two figures tumble through the window and a few more dance as the plasma bolts hit their targets before the
building was out of range.

  Kurt reached the opening to the pilot’s cabin. Each of the two seats was occupied, but before either of them could react Kurt shot the co-pilot then turned the Sig on the remaining man.

  “Take her away from here then put her down. I’ll tell you where,” he ordered.

  “Incoming!” shouted Zara from the open doorway.

  Kurt glanced through the side window just in time to see a grenade come streaking towards them.

  “Oh crap!” he exclaimed then his world turned to chaos.

  5

  12.10 s.e.t.

  The jet copter was torn apart in a cataclysm of fire and fury.

  Kurt was thrown against the bulkhead of the pilot’s cabin, his senses struggling to cope with the overload.

  He felt himself tumbling through the air as he was thrown clear of the wreckage of the decimated chopper.

  His journey through the air came to an abrupt halt when he hit the ground in a mess of broken bones and bloody flesh.

  Agony erupted over every inch of his body from his injuries and darkness encroached on the edge of his vision. With an effort of pure will, he forced the darkness back to regain hold of his senses. This was not the first time he had undergone catastrophic injuries and he knew what was to come next.

  He felt his bones begin to right themselves, joints popped back into place miraculously then skin began to form over gaping bleeding wounds. Although his clothes were in shreds his body was once more intact.

  He glanced across the ground and saw Zara going through the same process.

  The gunner and two pilots’ remains lay scattered on the ground amid the burning wreckage of the jet copter. Kurt glanced up at the window and saw the surprised faces of the men standing there.

  “Let’s go before they get down here again,” he blurted.

  Without a word, Zara complied and the two of them ran for the front of the house where the Champion was still parked.

  He heard glass shatter as they reached the front of the safe house followed by rapid gunfire.