Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set

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Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set Page 73

by Craig Martelle


  The driver straightened, smiling. He hefted the stone and flung it at the cab of the loader. It cracked off the windshield and achieved the desired effect. The driver waved and pointed to his load. The operator gave him a series of hand signals that probably had nothing to do with unloading the truck. The driver reciprocated. Red was crawling underneath, cutting hoses and slashing tires on the side opposite the driver.

  The loader dropped his flat bucket and motioned for the driver to dump the load into it.

  Tell me you didn’t cut the hose to raise the trailer.

  Oops, Red replied.

  The driver started slamming things inside his cab before getting out, slipping on gloves and bending down to check the underside of his trailer. Red crawled out from under the truck and snuck around behind the driver, slamming his face into the truck frame. The driver crumpled.

  Red ran at the loader operator, aiming his railgun and waving at the Capstanian to get out.

  “Cover is blown,” Rivka told the driver. “Get us in there. I need to get on board that ship right now and keep it from taking off.”

  The driver spun the tires and sped toward the truck. At the last second, he dodged to the side and drove across the rough tarmac, skidding and bouncing to a stop by the hatch. Rivka jumped out and leapt, catching the bottom stair as it started to retract. She rode it up and shot through the open hatch.

  Red stopped messing with the loader operator and ran toward the aft end of the ship. He took aim and sent three rounds from the railgun into the space where he guessed the engine would be located. And then he fired more rounds, bracketing the area. Something popped inside the ship, and a thin tendril of smoke trailed from one of the holes made by the impact of a hypervelocity dart. Red sprinted to the open hatch. The steps had been retracted, and Red couldn’t jump high enough.

  He motioned frantically for the van to move under the hatch. The driver complied and Red climbed on top, finally able to jump and grab the bottom ledge. With a deep growl, he pulled himself up and crawled inside.

  I’m in, he passed over the comm chip.

  About time, Rivka shot back. I’m heading for the bridge.

  Ship is disabled. I shot the engine.

  Find K’Twillis, she ordered. I’ll start with the bridge and interrogate anyone I see. Check main stowage.

  Red ran down the corridor, stopping when a man appeared in the space ahead, drawing a figure eight in the air before him with an exotically shaped knife.

  “Vered!” the man called.

  Red was going to shoot him but stopped. “You know my name?” Not the most profound of comebacks, he thought, shaking his head.

  “Of course. The one who comes before is usually the lesser man, the one who doesn’t measure up. But here you are, back to beg for your old job, but it’s not available.”

  “You have me at a disadvantage, and you are also mistaken. I’m here to eliminate the position, which I suppose means putting you out of work. You seem cool to the idea, but you’ll warm up.”

  “Billister. Remember that name for the short amount of time left in your life.”

  Red unhooked his railgun and dropped it in the corridor. He pulled two knives, both smaller than the security chief’s, but Red wasn’t dissuaded.

  “Save your breath,” Red replied. “You’re going to need it.”

  He crouched low, arms spread wide as he approached. Billister backed up slowly, angling his blade back and forth to catch the light. Red examined his new enemy, looking for weaknesses. He was smaller but probably quick. If he wasn’t enhanced with nanocytes, he would be slower than Red. In that case, it would be over quickly.

  The man seemed to be overly confident. It was the way of career criminals. They never thought they’d get caught.

  A battering ram slammed into Red’s side, jamming him against the bulkhead. He felt a couple of ribs give way, but he was enraged and couldn’t feel the pain. He slashed at the leafy branch with one knife and twisted until he was free of the pressure, then went after the trunk, beginning the deadly dance of knives against Aborginian bark.

  His rifle was on the far side, and Billister was at his back. His back!

  He dropped beneath an outstretched branch, hit the deck, and lashed out with a steel-toed boot. He caught Billister mid-stride, right in the goolies. The security chief was lifted into the air and landed face-first. Red dove beyond the unconscious man, rolled back to his feet, and crouched once more.

  The Aborginian was torn—attack or run. Red had no qualms. He took a step to the side to avoid stepping on Billister and pushed off one wall, but didn’t get enough momentum to leverage off the second wall. He landed in a heap atop K’Twillis and thrust his knives into where a human’s ears would be, but both blades thudded against the woodgrain of the Aborginian’s body.

  The branches that the alien used as arms wrapped around Red, who started stabbing haphazardly, trying randomly for a weak spot.

  Without the microphone, there would be no banter from the Aborginian; this would be a silent fight to the death. Red could feel the alien’s rage as he tried to crush him. K’Twillis pinned him against the metal wall and scrabbled for purchase, pushing and condensing. With an overhead swing, Red brought the point of one knife into the very top of the trunk that passed for an Aborginian body.

  K’Twillis rumbled his displeasure, letting go of the human as he tottered backward. He rubbed one branch over the top of his head.

  Red breathed heavily. His ribs had not yet healed from the initial attack and stung him with each new breath. He didn’t dare take his eyes off his former employer. One moment was all he would need to get a grip and rip his head off. Red held his knives up, flexing his grip.

  “What are you waiting for?” he growled.

  The Aborginian launched himself at the panting human.

  Lindy didn’t dare check on the candidate and his campaign manager. The previous three times she looked in, the female Capstanian started sobbing. Bandersnatch was at his wit’s end, but Lindy wouldn’t let him leave. She wanted everyone where she could see them while they waited for word that Ankh had traced the message.

  She’d sent a few notes from her datapad but hadn’t received an answer. Not from Ankh, nor Erasmus, nor even Jay. Finally she called Chaz. “Tell me that you’re alive?”

  “Thank you for considering me as a living being. It warms my heart. Or would if I had one,” Chaz snarked.

  “No time, Chaz. Where are Ankh and Jay?”

  “They are in the rec room. Ankh and Erasmus are playing cat and mouse with a cunning AI. I believe they are winning, but it is occupying one hundred percent of their attention. I do not want to interrupt them.”

  “Let me talk to Jay, please.”

  “Patching you through.”

  “Jay, how are we doing against the bad guys?”

  “I think pretty well. Ankh seems to be having fun, which tells me that it is a good challenge and that he’s winning whatever battle he’s fighting.”

  “That’s good news. What about the Magistrate?”

  “I haven’t heard from her or Red. Are they in trouble?” Jay was instantly concerned.

  “Probably, but that’s just a guess. I can’t seem to get hold of them either.”

  “Chaz, is there any way you can extend the range on these chips so we can get right into their minds?”

  “Yes, of course. I can tap the local communications system to provide a backbone upon which a boosted signal can ride.”

  “Is there any reason why we haven’t been doing that all along?” Lindy wondered.

  “None that I can think of,” Chaz replied. “There you go. Try it now.”

  Magistrate? Checking in to see how things are going, Lindy ventured.

  Can’t talk. The crew isn’t pleased with my interference with their movement. Red?

  I could use some help. I found K’Twillis.

  On my way, Rivka replied.

  The signal dropped.

  At least they
’re alive, Jay offered.

  I need to go wherever they are. Checking my datapad, Lindy said.

  No! Jay replied. You need to be ready to go wherever Tod Mackestray is so we can finish this and go home.

  Just tell me where.

  Soon, Jay told her friend calmly. Be patient, and good things will come.

  I have to admit that I can barely take these two.

  Two?

  That woman up front? She was working with Mackestray. I locked her in the office with Bandersnatch. They had a fling, and now they’re hating on each other. It makes me want to chew my arm off.

  Maybe you can get a vehicle and be ready to go, Jay suggested. I have high hopes that Ankh and Erasmus will own Mackestray at any moment.

  I like that idea. I’ll be standing by. Contact me when you have something. Anything, even if it’s only a single molecule. Lindy walked into the candidate’s office.

  I want to be out there with you guys, doing what we do best—working as a team.

  Thanks for that, Jay. It means a lot. We are better together, but right now, keep your eye on Ankh.

  “You,” Lindy said, pointing to the campaign manager. “Come with me.”

  The candidate sighed. He looked at his computer and back at Lindy.

  “Latest numbers say it’s a dead heat,” he said with a shrug. “Too bad it’s not real.”

  “Keep at it. Maybe next time it will be. And for future reference, no boffing the staff.”

  “Don’t I know that,” Bandersnatch replied, frowning.

  Lindy dragged the cuffed Capstanian female out front, where the workers hunched over their desks and tried to avoid making eye contact. Lindy tapped one on the shoulder. “Call us a taxi,” she ordered.

  The staffer dialed a number and dutifully ordered the vehicle before leaning away from Lindy and fiddling with a piece of paper on her desk. Lindy dragged the female out front.

  “Can’t you just let me go?”

  “Let me explain it to you in words that you’ll understand,” Lindy said slowly. “No.”

  The former campaign manager waited. “That’s it?”

  “That’s why I won’t let you go. You can’t understand the simplest of explanations. You’ll run off to your master and help him escape. We want to talk to the Blokite. In a big way, we want to talk to him.”

  “I promise I won’t contact him. I don’t know how!”

  “Why do I have a hard time believing you?”

  “You have to,” she pleaded.

  “No, I don’t.” Lindy had lost patience. “You need to shut up, or you’re going to find duct tape across your face.”

  “The taxi won’t let you travel with someone who’s been kidnapped!” Her voice grew more shrill with each word. Lindy pressed the Capstanian’s face against the wall as she worked the duct tape out of the pack with her free hand. Once she had it, she pulled off a strip, holding the end with her teeth before ripping it free.

  The taxi pulled up and beeped. Lindy spun the female around. She started to scream but was quickly silenced with the application of duct tape and a rabbit punch on the end of her nose.

  Lindy dragged her captive across the sidewalk beneath the blaring bullhorns and tossed her into the backseat of the taxi.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t be a part of a crime.”

  “There’s no crime here,” Lindy stated. “I’m with Magistrate Rivka Anoa, and this person is a suspect in a Federation corruption probe. We’ve already tapped out the police vehicles, so taxi it is, but I don’t know where we need to go yet, so we’re going to sit right here and wait.”

  “Meter is running,” the driver said as he tapped a button and the numbers started to ring up.

  The Capstanian female started to buck and flop. Lindy yanked her by the hair. “Do you want me to punch you in the face until you’re unconscious?”

  The former campaign manager didn’t hesitate. She started kicking the seat and slamming her shoulder into the door.

  “Fine, have it your way.” Lindy slammed the female’s head against the doorframe until she went limp. “Some suspects never learn.”

  “If she was guilty, would she fight that hard?” the driver asked.

  “I know she’s guilty. She already confessed. So to answer your question, yes. She doesn’t like the consequences related to her poor life choices and doesn’t think she should have to suffer them. So sad when someone demands to be treated like an adult, until they are and find out that’s not what they wanted at all.”

  “Why all the weapons? You don’t seem to have any problem handling her without them.”

  “She’s an accomplice. Our primary suspect is extremely dangerous, alleged to be responsible for the deaths of thousands on Leed’s Planet.”

  “One person can kill thousands?”

  “One person, with the power of words alone, can facilitate the destruction of a civilized society. Capstan needs to be free of this guy. From what I’ve seen, you have the most decent politicians I’ve ever seen.”

  “Politics! What a scam,” the taxi driver offered. “They do their thing, and we do ours. Just make sure your license is up to date. That’s all they care about, getting their cut.”

  Lindy started to laugh. “Some things are universal, my friend.” She continued to chuckle until her datapad vibrated. She pulled it out and looked at it. “Take us to this address.”

  “That’s a ways away, it’ll cost you.”

  “No problem. Bonus if you get us there quickly.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He smoked the tires as he spun into traffic, hooting out his window as he flew past traffic.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Red braced himself against the wall and kicked out with both feet. He felt as if he’d kicked a block of granite, but it stopped the Aborginian in his tracks. Red roared and jumped, aiming to drive his knife farther into the top of the trunk. K’Twillis blocked the attack with a branch and swept the human away with the other. Red landed on the other side of Billister.

  K’Twillis stomped toward Red, crushing his security chief as he went. Red crab-walked down the corridor and rolled back to his feet, but the Aborginian pressed forward relentlessly. Red charged, ducking his head to catch his enemy in the midsection. He slowed to wrap his arms around the creature, lifting and pushing. He felt the trunk lift off the deck. Red’s powerful legs pushed.

  The branch arms started hammering on his back. Even protected by the ballistic armor, the beating was brutal. Red cried out in pain. With a surge of strength, he lifted and turned, tossing the Aborginian toward Billister. Red dashed forward and dove.

  He grabbed the railgun and rolled. Firing from his position on his back, the hypervelocity darts ripped great sections from the trunk. Wood chips flew as if from a chainsaw. The echo within the metal corridor was deafening. The creature shrieked and bolted through the hatch from which he had first attacked.

  Red back flipped to his feet and staggered after K’Twillis.

  “Wait!” Rivka called when she saw him disappear. She redoubled her speed and turned into the ship’s hydroponic space. She slowed to a stop and listened. The room was filled with vegetation. Nothing moved.

  “He’s in here,” Red growled. “And he’s hurt.”

  “Reaper,” she said softly. Red backed toward her until he was standing by her side. He kept the barrel of his railgun swinging back and forth. Rivka dialed the neutron pulse weapon to ten and touched off a few shots, not holding the button down for more than a tenth of a second. She didn’t want to destroy everything in the neighboring compartments, only the Aborginian.

  She kept firing at densely packed areas.

  “I guess we’re not taking him alive,” Red said eyes wide as he looked for any movement.

  “Guess not. K’Twillis. You have been judged,” Rivka stated. One of her last shots gave her what she was looking for. A section of greenery detached itself from the rest and started jerking. She hit it with more pulses. Red added a few dozen rounds from
the railgun.

  He rolled his railgun to his back and from a vest pocket, he removed a portable welding torch no bigger than a pen. “You might not want to be in here,” Red said, lighting the torch and holding the blue flame against the Aborginian’s trunk.

  Rivka backed into the corridor. Red stood for a moment to make sure the flames caught hold. “Put a price on my head, you prick! How about you burn in hell.”

  Red strolled out and closed the hatch as the dense smoke started to billow. The whistling scream could have been water boiling and hissing through cracks in the wood, or it could have been the final cry of the Aborginian known as K’Twillis.

  It didn’t matter to Rivka.

  Fire alarms sounded throughout the ship. “Looks like our work here is done,” Red said, wincing from the crushing blows that the Aborginian had laid on him. “Next time we fight one of his race, we use a flamethrower and call it a day.”

  “This ship isn’t going anywhere. You did a number on the engines if the warning lights on the bridge were any indication,” Rivka told him, finally realizing that he needed help. She slung one of his arms over her shoulder and supported him as he lumbered along.

  “I better report to the others,” Rivka said before switching to her internal comm chip. K’Twillis has been judged and rendered harmless. We are on our way from the freighter port.

  Here is the address for Mackestray, Ankh said. Rivka felt her datapad vibrate.

  “Are you going to be ready for round two?”

  “I hope so,” Red said.

  “Do you think Grainger had this in mind when he hired you to be my bodyguard?”

  “Had what in mind?” Red asked.

  They reached the hatch, and Rivka punched the button to extend the steps to the ground. The van rolled out of the way and waited.

  “Me carrying you. Lots of running. Shooting. And now we can add fire and burning to our repertoire.”

  “I’m sure this is exactly what he had in mind.” Red snorted a laugh, and together they hurried down the stairs as fast as Red’s battered body allowed.

 

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