Ironshield

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Ironshield Page 41

by Edward Nile


  Storming down the catwalk, he reached the massive curtain blocking off half the space and pulled a rope, letting the fabric crumple to the floor below.

  Radiance gleamed in yellow lamplight, its golden trimmings polished to perfection as always.

  Expensive didn’t begin to cover what it had taken Elliot to keep and hide the Warsuit. He’d needed an accurate copy of the original machine built, only so it could be scrapped with the others. But it was worth it. There was no way Elliot would relinquish that kind of power, not when it could be of use. Not when the Empire would call it his due in the end, once they took the colony back under their rule.

  I’ll walk through the authorities, get a car, then buy myself a boat off this continent.

  Why? A voice inside nagged. With the only Kaizer left in all Arkenia, who’d be able to stop you from taking the Presidential House? It was pure fantasy, of course. Radiance would run out of fuel long before Elliot could get there.

  “Elliot Salkirk!” Men yelled outside.

  One thing at a time. Elliot pulled open a panel next to Radiance’s chest and yanked on the manual lever inside. The cockpit hatch fell open with the creak of hinges. “Bastards had better have kept it oiled,” Elliot muttered as he climbed into the shadow of the Warsuit.

  Something cold pressed against his forehead, stopping him in his tracks.

  “Wouldn’t worry too much about that, Senator.” Edmund Paulson flicked on a light from the control chair. His pistol was planted square between Elliot’s eyes. “I’m afraid your servants will need to find new employment in any case.”

  Elliot’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “You really going to shoot me, you fat little monster? That what you did to Darian?”

  “Mr. Gaul got the personal treatment,” Paulson replied. “You? I’ll be content to watch hang. Up here!” Paulson called when the door banged open downstairs. The secretary’s eyes never left Elliot’s.

  Elliot put his hands up. Whatever fate awaited him, he’d take it over whatever Gaul had endured.

  Chapter 30

  Aldren wiped condensation from his window, but it did little to improve visibility. Looking to the edge of the mountain road, he was pretty sure he was better off not seeing the drop shrouded by white mists.

  Genlu leaned as far forward as he could to see what little there was to see of the path, a rough-cut dirt road hugging tight to the mountain sides as it spiraled its way up.

  For once, Mayla looked as nervous as Aldren felt, but it wasn't the road or the weather her eyes were locked on.

  "Hey," Aldren whispered, poking her in the arm. "Hey."

  She took her eyes off their driver.

  "He's doing what we asked, he's taking us through," Aldren continued in a hushed voice. "Doesn't that prove everything's on the up and up? I mean, he'd have done something by now if he was gonna stab us in the back. Had the perfect chance earlier at the road block. Instead, he's risking his ass on hell's misty highway. So, whaddaya say we turn back and maybe not die?"

  Mayla kept eye contact as Aldren spoke, her face revealing nothing. "If you knew as much about Xang as I did, Mal, you'd know the lengths they'll go to get their way. These people fought a war with your country over the ability to dominate islands they didn't even need. Think a little dicey driving matters to them?" She returned to her study of the back of Genlu's head.

  Aldren threw up his hands in exasperation. An instant later he grabbed hold of the passenger seat in front of him when the motorcar went over a bump.

  Come all the way to a dictatorship only to get myself killed by one crazy broad. I could have stayed home for that, at least then I'd get some fun in the sheets out of the deal. If they went tumbling over the edge, Aldren's dying act would be to cop a feel, just on principle.

  Mayla sat straighter beside Aldren, alert. "What's that?"

  Aldren followed her gaze and saw a shadow in the white haze ahead.

  Genlu muttered something in Xangese that sounded like a curse.

  From the mist, a huge mound of stones came into view, piled twice as high as a man. It went across the road, a heap of impassible boulders.

  Genlu brought the car to a stop and slapped the steering wheel.

  They climbed out of the automobile to take a better look.

  "Rockslide," Genlu spat. "It happens, up here."

  "And yet the road still gets used," said Mayla. "Which means people come to clear the rocks away."

  "They do, but that could take weeks," their escort replied. "Months, even. This far north, nothing gets done quickly."

  "But a crew turns up to keep us off the seaside on short notice." Mayla looked sideways at Genlu as she studied the top of the pile. "Convenient."

  "Doesn't feel too convenient from where I'm standing," Aldren said. He pulled out a cigarette, one of his last. His lighter sparked, but didn't create a flame. "Fucking air's wetter than a sauna," he muttered. "I'm sick of this country."

  Mayla pushed at a boulder, bent down to inspect the soil around it. "Looks recent," she said. "Hmm. Mal, come over here, please."

  Genlu started to follow Aldren as he complied.

  "I don't remember saying your name."

  Their escort threw up his hands. "I'll be in the car."

  "What are you, a geologist now?" Aldren said as he stepped over to join her. "We gotta call it a day. I'm sure the water will settle soon enough. Then we can reach the north coast and I can sign my damn-"

  "Shh," Mayla interrupted. "Get down here and look."

  There was something new in her voice. Urgency, panic, they sounded like foreign emotions coming from the thick-skinned woman.

  Aldren knelt beside her.

  “Recognize this?” Mayla picked an object out of the dirt. It was round, blackened, with the melted remains of wiring sticking from its deformed shape.

  Aldren had never been one to handle explosives, but he’d seen enough sappers prepare charges to recognize a blasting cap. Slowly, he nodded.

  “This wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t a coincidence. They used dynamite to block the road. Probably got a radio call from the roadblock after we refused to turn back. No, Aldren, we can’t just wait out the tide. The Xangese won’t let you get any farther than this, because they’re hiding something. And you know it.”

  “Do I?” Aldren asked, trying and failing to sound confident. “What would it take, Mayla, to convince you that everything’s on the level? You tell me, and I’ll do it.”

  “Simple,” she replied. “The fishing town is maybe two days away on foot, and this pile doesn’t go too high. We climb over and walk the rest of the way.”

  Aldren pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. “You know, I was thinking of asking you to a proper night of gambling and mischief after this, but I think I’ll need a break from you just to bring the crazy levels down.” He stood.

  “Is that a no?”

  “What did I just say? ‘Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.’ Let’s grab our stuff.”

  “I’m just surprised you’re not being difficult.”

  “You made that easy,” Aldren sighed. “This far from the city, we’ll make better time heading north and hiring a boat than going back the way we came. Oi, Genny!” he called, turning to the car. “Looks like we’ll be getting some exerci…”

  Genlu was nowhere to be seen.

  “Oh what now?!” Aldren kicked a rock in exasperation. It was mostly an act, as he produced one of his daggers, alert. “Mayla,” he called over his shoulder. “Think this is your chance to say you told me so.”

  No answer. Aldren risked a glance over his shoulder. The woman had disappeared as well.

  A rock clattered somewhere.

  Shit.

  Aldren dove to the ground without pausing to think. No sooner had he done so than the peal of a gunshot split the air, the bullet sparking off the hood of the car above Aldren’s head. He scrambled to take cover behind the vehicle. I’ve been played. He had to admit it was a clever scam, acti
ng like they hated one another, making Aldren doubt everything. It wasn’t much comfort.

  Genlu chuckled. Aldren heard more stones shift as the man moved. “You came so close to going home, Sargent Mal. All you had to do was let your better judgement rule you.”

  “Breaks my heart that we’re not on a first name basis, Genny. Really thought we were becoming friends.” Aldren flinched at another gunshot. The tire beside him hissed as air escaped it.

  “How does it feel, gaji moron, to know you could have lived had you only done what you wanted to begin with? I heard your little discussions with the bitch.”

  “What can I say, I’m a sucker for a pair of legs.”

  “I hope you’re listening too, you Quarish cunt!” Genlu shouted. “Don’t think you can hide for long. These mountains are crawling with the Dao’s men.”

  Huh. So they weren’t working together. Did Mayla run off? It’s what I’d do. Aldren inched his way toward the car door. If he could get in, maybe he could drive away without getting his head blown off.

  His hand touched the door handle.

  Bang! The windshield shattered. Aldren hugged to the side of the car, his cheek against cool, damp metal.

  “It’s just your bad luck,” Genlu called. “Had you been the first, it’d be you being sent home with a stomach ache. But we can’t use the same trick twice.”

  Six rounds, that’s what Genlu’s gun had, if Aldren was correct. The bastard had fired three times now. “Buddy, you’re smarter than that. No one’s going to be gullible enough to think my getting offed is a fluke too.”

  “No, but with your records, they’ll believe you ran.” Genlu’s voice was coming closer. “Either way, what your people think or suspect won’t matter soon.”

  Well, that’s encouraging. Aldren needed to act, to hit Genlu hard before he could come around the car and get a better shot. Aldren hefted his dagger. Used to be good at throwing these. He would only get one go at it. If he missed, he’d be wide open.

  “I can appreciate you wanting to give me a rough time,” Genlu said. His voice was coming around the front of the car now, agonizingly close. “But I promise if you turn yourself over quietly, I’ll make it quick. There are soldiers up and down the road for which I cannot say the same.”

  Pulse fluttering in his chest, Aldren kissed his blade. “Fuck that.” He popped up and hurled the knife in the direction of his assailant’s voice.

  Genlu turned to the side with a sharp cry. The handle of Aldren’s dagger stuck out of his right shoulder.

  “Gaji shit.” Genlu pulled the bloody knife free. His face contorted in pain and rage, he raised his gun.

  Some part of Aldren's brain told him to act now, to rush the asshole, to throw something else at him or just run away. But he was rooted to the spot as surely as a deer in shock.

  The muzzle lined up with Aldren's head, and all he could see was that pinpoint of darkness, the pupil of a remorseless eye.

  Something smashed onto Genlu's arm. He shouted, dropping the gun and clutching the hurt limb. Another rock struck him across the temple.

  "The gun, Aldren," Mayla shouted from atop the pile of boulders. "Grab the fucking gun!"

  He snapped out of his frozen state while Genlu was still reeling, hand pressed to his bleeding head. Aldren dove over the hood of the car and scooped up the pistol as he rolled across the ground. Coming up onto one knee, he pointed the gun at his attacker. "On the ground, cocksucker. Now."

  Mayla hopped down from a nearby boulder. "Shoot him," she said.

  The weapon shook in Aldren's grasp. A pistol had never felt so heavy. "No," he said.

  "I know you're not a soldier, Mal, but this is about living or dying. We let him go, he'll have us hunted and killed."

  "Pretty sure we're gonna be hunted anyway. That right, Gen?"

  "Drink piss, western pig." Genlu hocked a wad of spit on the dirt between them.

  Aldren cocked the gun. "I might not kill you, but if you don't get on the ground and put your hands on your head, you can say goodbye to a kneecap." He made sure to lock eyes with the Xangese man and didn't blink. "I mean it."

  Genlu lowered himself to a cross-legged sitting position, his hands in his lap. "Do whatever you're going to do, lowlife. You'll get nothing out of me."

  Mayla wrenched the gun from Aldren's hand and strode over to Genlu. She pressed the muzzle point-blank between his eyes. "Suit yourself."

  Genlu's eyes crossed, trying to stare at the weapon. He looked considerably more nervous, now that the weapon was in Mayla's hand.

  "We can use him," Aldren said. "With him as a hostage, maybe we can escape."

  Mayla snorted. "If this worm was important enough for that, they'd never have assigned him this job."

  "Then he can help us get to a boat!"

  "I won't d-do it," Genlu stammered.

  "Right, you sound so s-sure," Aldren mocked. "Didn't believe I'd do the deed; but May's a different story, isn't she?"

  Mayla cocked an eyebrow at the nickname. Aldren shrugged.

  "Ridiculous. Whatever she does to me won't compare to the Dao's judgement when my failure becomes known. I'll take the swift death."

  "Works for me," said Mayla.

  "OR, he comes with us and doesn't die at all," Aldren interjected. "Arkenia's not as big on the summary execution thing. A life of square-ish meals and something resembling a bed sounds better than a bullet, far as I'm concerned."

  It looked as though the Xangese man would refuse. He shifted his gaze from Aldren, to the gun pressed against his forehead, and back. "That would depend on you keeping a leash on this bitch!"

  "Not a good time to test my patience," Mayla hissed. The arm holding the pistol was rock steady. "Aldren."

  He shrugged again. "You cooperate, help us get out of this, you live. But I can't guarantee what she'll do if you keep stalling, so choose quick."

  Genlu drew in a breath. "Guarantee me immunity, once we reach Arkenia."

  "You get to keep breathing, that's the deal," Aldren retorted. In truth, he wasn't sure he could guarantee that much. Yannick had been hanged for far less, and he was a citizen. But chances were this man wasn't an expert on Arkenian law.

  Genlu hissed through clenched teeth. “Fine.”

  “One shout to your friends, one move without our permission, and I’ll shoot for the gut,” said Mayla, stepping back and aiming the pistol lower. “Understand?”

  Genlu spat at her feet. “I’m not taking orders from a Quar whor- agh!”

  Mayla jabbed the barrel of the gun into Genlu’s knife wound before he could finish talking and twisted. “I’ll ask again, then I’m emptying this inside you. Do you understand?”

  Genlu’s face streamed with sweat and tears, his features contorted as he tried to hold in a scream, eyes screwed shut, teeth clenched in a rictus of agony. A moan escaped his throat. The gun squelched as Mayla twisted it the other way.

  That brought out a shriek.

  Aldren flinched back, his stomach uneasy.

  “Yes!” Genlu cried. “Alright, I understand! God, please, just take it out!”

  Mayla yanked the pistol free, splashing drops of blood over the ground. “Bandage yourself up,” she said, tossing Genlu a rag from her satchel. “We don’t have time to waste.”

  Aldren walked over to her and leaned in to whisper. “Which way are we going?”

  “Same way we were headed before,” Mayla responded, checking over the gun. She gestured to Genlu, and he pulled the rest of his bullets from his pocket.

  “You were right before,” she muttered as Aldren brought the bullets to her. “Getting away with a boat will be faster than taking the road back. Now to top that, we know the way behind us isn’t an option.”

  “Right,” said Aldren. “’Cause heading through a secret military base and stealing one of their boats with one gun between us and an injured hostage is the definition of safe.”

  “Give credit where it’s due, Aldren.” Mayla spun the cylinder and slap
ped it in place before shoving the gun in the front of her waistband. “I know what I'm doing.”

  *

  “They’re rolling their guns up!” Roy called from his turret post along the catwalk.

  James doused his face in water from the washroom sink. The facility was fed by a cistern on the roof, designed to be completely independent from the town’s plumbing system, and the water here was particularly cold. He allowed a shiver to travel down his spine. It was exactly what he needed.

 

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