The Darkness of God: Book Three of the Shadow Warrior Trilogy (18 page)

BOOK: The Darkness of God: Book Three of the Shadow Warrior Trilogy
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“She went away to school and married the graduating valedictorian when she was a freshman. Perhaps a successful marriage was what she intended for a career. They both were killed in the Al’ar raid on Mars.” Joshua remembered the girl’s easy smile, seldom directed at him.

“Just as well — that she married someone else, I mean,” Chesney said. “A warrior doesn’t need any more anchors than his own mind can provide.”

“Yeah,” Wolfe said sarcastically. “That’s us. Footloose, carefree rebels, leaving a trail of broken hearts as we wander the stars.”

• • •

Wolfe came out of his compartment yawning. Chesney was at the control panel, on the com. He saw Wolfe, said, “Received … clear …” into the mike, and broke contact.

“You’ve got contact with our customers?” Wolfe asked.

“Right. First an hour or two ago, then they put out another signal just now,” Chesney said quickly. “Damned amateur worrywarts. Babbling like they’ve never heard of intercepts or locators. Had to cut them off, as you heard.”

“The only way conspirators get experience is the hard way,” Joshua said, easing into the copilot’s seat. “Unfortunately, most get dead in the learning.”

“And isn’t that the truth,” Chesney said heartily. “They even had a password for us. ‘Freedom or death.’ How terribly jejune. We’re about sixteen hours from planetfall, by the way. How about some coffee?”

“Sure,” Wolfe said, getting up. “Have it ready in a minute.”

“Keep one hand for yourself,” Chesney warned. “I might be jinking us around a trifle. There might be a det-bubble or two I’ve missed.”

• • •

“Interesting place to schedule a pickup for,” Wolfe said. “Right in the middle of university grounds. Very clever, unless they’re professorial, in which case it’s suicidal.”

“Which way would you bet?”

“Six to five. Against. On anything.”

“That’s safe,” Chesney said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to be somewhat busy.”

Chesney brought the
Resolute
screaming in from space, just at dawn. “Hopefully they’ll think we’re a meteorite for a moment or two, and by then we’ll be below their radar horizon and invisible long enough to grab the geetus,” he said. “Buckle up.”

He flared the ship barely a thousand feet up. Wolfe heard antigrav generators groan and saw red warnings flash on the control panel.

“Shut up,” Chesney grunted to the blinking lights. “Stop sniveling, you bitch.” His fingers danced across sensors, and Wolfe remembered a pianist he’d seen.

Chesney was very good, he decided, as the ship spun and dodged without, as far as Joshua could see, any warnings of detection.

“Always well,” Chesney grunted, “to be careful. Touchdown, six minutes …”

There was a city below. He extruded spoilers, killed the drive. “Don’t want to go
too
slow,” he said. “Or some traffic cop’ll throw a rock and knock us down. One minute sixteen. Here we are.”

He put reverse thrust on as the
Resolute
shot over long rows of housing into open country, then towers and great buildings loomed ahead, gold and red brick in the dawn’s light.

“And here we be,” he said, braking sharply. The
Resolute
bucked and fell a few feet, and Chesney moved the slide-pots of the antigrav system up, and the ship stabilized. “Just on time.”

The
Resolute
settled toward a huge cement pad, marked with regular lines. Beyond was a large stadium. The
Resolute
touched down with never a jar. “I’ll keep it just grounded, so we don’t punch a nice easy-to-spot ship-sized crater in their parking lot,” Chesney said. “Perhaps you’ll see to the niceties, then? Do take a gun. Freedom-lovers can prove most unreliable.”

Wolfe picked up his heavy blaster, went to the lock, opened the inner and outer doors, and looked out. On one side was the stadium, on the other a low building, on a third a large grove.

He extruded the gangway as a small gravsled came from behind the building and shot toward the
Resolute.
There were two women and a man aboard, and, in the back, a large case.

The lifter grounded ten feet from the
Resolute,
slewed sideways, its skids striking sparks from the tarmac.

“Freedom,” one of the women shouted as she jumped out.

“Or death,” Wolfe replied dryly, wondering if enough starships grounded on Bulnes’ campuses for a password to be needed.

“I’m Margot,” the woman said.

“And I don’t have a name, and hope that isn’t your real one, either,” Wolfe said. “Never give away what you don’t have to.”

The woman appeared angry, then perplexed.

The other two lifted the case out and staggered toward the
Resolute.
Margot glanced at Joshua as if expecting him to help. Wolfe didn’t move, but kept the gun ready. She gave him a dark look and helped the other two.

“All right,” she said when the case was in the lock. “You’d best lift, before the Inspectorate makes a sweep over us.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Joshua reminded her.

Her eyes flickered. “Oh. Yes. Sorry,” she said. “Sorry I forgot, but my mind was on security.”

Joshua decided she was a rotten liar. The other woman brought a packet from the gravsled. Wolfe opened one end.

“It’s all there,” Margot said. “Don’t you trust us?”

Wolfe made no reply, shuffling notes. “Good,” he said at last. “Now get away from the ship. We’re going straight up and out.”

The three ran to the gravsled, and the driver lifted it away.

“Go!” Wolfe shouted to Chesney and hit the close sensor on the lock.

It slid shut as the
Resolute
went vertical. Wolfe grabbed for a handhold and fell against the lock door as the secondary came on, then gravity shifted as the ship’s own system went on.

He looked out the tiny bull’s-eye port at the shrinking parking area, the suddenly tiny gravsled, and, from the copse of trees, two gravlighters lifting out of concealment.

“Hit it hard,” Wolfe called. “Our customers just got stopped!”

• • •

Wolfe let the radiation counter clatter for a moment, shut it off, and set it down beside the case. “Whatever’s in there is hot,” he said. “I have no intention of opening it, even in space wearing a suit. I’ll take their word it’s what the rebels want.”

“Good,” Chesney said. “What about the money?”

“It’s real, as far as I know,” Joshua said. “But I’m hardly an expert on Bulnes’ coins of the realm. Here, give me a hand.”

He and Chesney lifted the case down the passageway, lashed it down in the small cargo hold, and returned to the control room.

“I need a drink,” Chesney said. “You?”

“Maybe later.”

Wolfe waited until Chesney had the cork out of the bottle, about to pour.

“How much did the Inspectorate pay you to rat them out?”

The bottle jerked and wine spilled across the table. “What
are
you talking about?”

“Come on, Merrett,” Wolfe said. “When I came out of my room, before we went in-atmosphere, you were talking to somebody. You heard me, jumped like a goosed doe, then came up with a cockamamie explanation that the rebels were the chatty sort. How much?”

Chesney eyed Wolfe. Joshua took a small pistol out of his shirt, laid it down on the table, put his hand on top of it.

“Half a mill,” Chesney said reluctantly.

“Where’s it to be delivered? I assume you’re not planning to go back to Bulnes and collect?”

“I have a number-call account. They’re transferring funds now.”

“Good,” Wolfe said. “You can com your banker right now, and transfer 250K to an account number I’m going to give you. Remember, the split’s equal, right?”

Chesney blinked, then a smile creased his face. “You don’t care about them any more than I do.”

“Why should I?” Joshua said. “I’m no more political than you.”

Chesney picked up his glass, drained it, refilled it.

“You know,” he said, “I might have found myself a real partner.”

“Maybe,” Joshua said. “But don’t think that game works twice. Not on me, not on the people we’re making the delivery to.”

“Of course not,” Chesney said. “For openers, their security — the Inspectorate I heard you call it — wouldn’t have any reason to pay me if they had both sets of baddies and the geetus as well, now would they? This way, they’ve already made the transfer, and now they’re waiting for me to tip them the wink once I reach Osirio to get the rest. They’ll be waiting a
very
long time. Partner.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NOT FOR PUBLIC RELEASE

Do N
OT
D
ISTRIBUTE
B
ELOW
E
XECUTIVE
L
EVEL

The management of Hykord Transport GmbH has determined we will no longer accept cargoes either directly or for transshipment from companies who are part of our Galactic Efficiency Group for the following sectors:

Alkeim, Garfed, Montros, Porphyry, Q11, Rosemont, Saphir, TangoZed, Ullar, Y267, and Yttr.

In addition, no cargo intended for any of the so-called Outlaw Worlds will be accepted.

Finally, we no longer accept shipments to any scientific or military presence in the worlds formerly part of the Al’ar sectors.

This decision has been reluctantly reached not because of various distressing rumors, which are utterly absurd to anyone who takes a moment to consider their probability, but due to the hugely increased insurance premiums leveled.

Management hopes that this situation will change shortly, and Hykord Transport GmbH will be able to return to its proud motto: “You Crate It, We Carry It. Anywhere, Anytime.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“It looks tropical down there,” Chesney said gloomily.

“The gazetteer agrees with you,” Wolfe said. “I quote: ‘Most of the planet is tropical to subtropical, with extensive rain forests which have been heavily exploited by the Osirians. These forests are the home of many interesting fauna, including the primeval and exceedingly dangerous tarafny, click here for holo, many species of snakes, including the aggressive, dangerous-to-man …’” Wolfe let his voice trail off.


This
is the motherworld,” Chesney said in amazement. “They’re not decadent — you have to have accomplished something for it to get rotten. And why am I always going to places where the bugs are not only bigger than I am, but carnivorous?”

“You must’ve been lucky in another life,” Wolfe said.

“Ah well,” Chesney sighed. “Here we go. In-atmosphere. Ring up our clients if you would, and see if they’ve got the soup on.”

Wolfe touched sensors, opened a mike. “Freedom,” he said.

There was a crackle of static. He tried again. “Or death” came back.

“Inbound per your instructions,” Wolfe said. “ETA …” he glanced at Chesney.

“Fifty-eight minutes,” the pilot said.

“In five-eight. Will monitor this freq. Do not broadcast except for emergencies,” Wolfe said.

There was the acknowledging click of a mike button.

“Well,” Wolfe said. “Perhaps a professional. Or at least someone who’s read a book or two.”

“Here’s the plan,” Chesney said, and his fingers touched points on the map on a secondary screen. “I’m bringing it in over this ocean, hopefully without being noticed. I’ll low-fly to shore, then ground it here, which is the grid location they gave us, on what looks like a beach, next to this river here. If anything goes wrong, we withdraw gracefully, leaving big black streaks. Remember, my finances have been a little close lately, so the missile tubes are for show only. The only armament the
Resolute
has are the chainguns, so we shouldn’t play the bravo. Comments?”

“Other than it looks easy, which scares me, none.”

“Buckle up.”

Osirio swallowed their screens as they closed, and Joshua dimly heard atmosphere-roar. The screen went to gray for an instant, then came back with a real-time visual: thick cloud cover below, blanking everything. Chesney switched to infrared.

“Nothing much down there,” he said. Wolfe examined the blotches along the shoreline, saw nothing change, flipped the scanner through various spectrums.

“I’ve got a little wiggle about where we’re headed,” Joshua said. “Signals within the ninety-one-point-five megahertz range.”

“Diagnosis?” Chesney’s voice was tense.

“Don’t know.”

“Must be a village. I’d guess they’d have some kind of com to civilization. Just like amateurs to pick a place they can sit and drink beer in while they wait.”

“Maybe.”

“Wolfe,” Chesney said worriedly. “I’ve got a — ”

Alarms roared as the com blared: “Ambush! The Inspectorate’s holding the town! Break off! Go for — ”

“Strong radar signal,” Joshua said. “We are being tracked.” His voice was cold, emotionless, very clear.

“Understood,” Chesney said. His voice could have been a duplicate of Wolfe’s.

Another alarm shrilled.

“We are targeted,” Joshua said.

“Your call.”

“Maintain flight pattern … Stand by for evasive action …” A third alarm gonged.

“I have a SAM launch,” Wolfe said. The alarm rang twice more. “I have two more launches.” He could have been talking about the weather.

“Give me music. We’re blown,” Chesney ordered.

Joshua touched two sensors, skipped two, tapped three others.

“ECM broadcasting.”

“Results?”

Joshua waited.

“Results, dammit!”

“Negative on one and three — I have a lock on two — two is wavering — he’s lost contact with us … Two self-detonated.”

“Your call.”

“Stand by — wait — wait — roll right, dive 300 feet, jink left,” Joshua ordered. “On my command … four … three … two … NOW!”

Chesney’s fingers swept the control board, and the
Resolute
dove sideways, corrected, banked left.

“One toppled …” The slam of an explosion rolled the ship.

“That was three,” Wolfe said. “A bit close. Stand by … I have another launch — max evasive action — jink left — left — right — climb five-zero …”

Breathe … breathe …

“Two more launches,” he said.

BOOK: The Darkness of God: Book Three of the Shadow Warrior Trilogy
13.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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