The Empire’s Corps: Book 01 - The Empire's Corps (46 page)

“You’re all clean,” the lead Guardsman assured her. Felicity shrugged inwardly. Kneeling on the ground, she had the uncomfortable feeling that someone intended to shoot her in the head. “We’ll just check the van and then you can be on your way.”

He pulled open the van’s door and recoiled. “Fuck me,” he said, loudly enough for Julia to hear and giggle nervously. “What the hell do you have in here?”

“Rotting fruit,” Carl explained. If he was nervous, he didn't show it. “The Council insists that we take it back for disposal.”

“No wonder they all stink,” the second Guardsman said, with a disdainful glance at Felicity. “The stench has gotten into their very skin.”

Felicity felt her cheeks flush, but said nothing. “I think that that's just a way of keeping men like you off them,” the lead Guardsman said wryly. He slammed the door shut and turned back to Felicity. “I think you can go...”

“But we have to inspect everything for the missing Marine,” the second Guardsman protested. Felicity braced herself. If it all went to hell...

“There’s no point,” the lead Guardsman said. “If you want to go rooting through rotten fruit, be my guest.” He chuckled. “I didn't think so.”

He motioned for Felicity to stand up and relax. “You’re free to go,” he said. “Have a safe trip back home.”

“Thank you, sir,” Felicity said, as they climbed back into the car. She spoke the age-old blessing with genuine feeling. “May God bless you and your children and protect them from fear and harm.”

She didn't breathe easily again until they were well away from the Guardsmen. “They know about the Marine,” Carl said. “They could be tracking us now.”

“And if they were, we’d be dead by now,” Felicity said. “It's time to relax. We have a long drive ahead of us to the switch-over point.”

***

Jasmine braced herself as they slipped into the apartment block and headed up the stairs. Her nose twitched as the stink struck her, a mixture of piss and shit and helplessness that reminded her of the worst she’d seen on Earth. Mandy had told her that her mother was making friends with people who wanted to learn about the latest fashions from Earth, yet they didn't want to hear the worst of the homeworld. If they had spent a few seconds in the Undercity, they would have been a lot less eager to have Avalon go the same way.

“In there,” Joe subvocalised. Jasmine drew her weapon and moved into a support position as he inspected the door, and then picked the lock with a Marine multitool. The three Marines burst into the apartment, only to find it deserted. The scent of raw heady sex floated in the air, mocking her. “At least we know he was here.”

Jasmine followed his gaze and saw the small pile of clothes on the floor. They matched the ones that Blake had been wearing before he’d left them at the bar. A quick check revealed that his personal weapon had been abandoned along with the clothes. Whatever had been going on, there was no sign of a struggle and only one thing would have made abandon his weapon willingly. She noticed red stains on the bed and leaned over, relaxing slightly when she realised that it wasn't blood. It looked more like lipstick.

She pushed the matter out of her mind and activated her communicator. “Captain, we have located the apartment,” she said, once the connection was established. “Blake was unquestionably here, but there are no clues that might lead us to his current location, at least none that we can see. We’re going to need a WARCAT team out here.”

“We don’t have one,” Captain Stalker reminded her. A War Crimes Assessment Tribunal was rare outside sector capitals or major fleet deployments, yet at a pinch they could be pressed into forensic service and made to work as detectives. She rather doubted that Camelot had a local police department worthy of the name, not if they were using the Civil Guard to patrol the streets. “I’ve found two Marines who served as bodyguards to a WARCAT team on Han; they may be able to assist.”

Jasmine winced. It was a long shot, at best. “Yes, sir,” she said. She shared a glance with her team-mates, coming to an understanding without speaking a single word. “We request permission to carry on with our own search.”

There was a long pause. She knew what had to be going through the Captain’s head. Blake was already lost, perhaps beyond recovery...and risking three other Marines would be reckless, at best. Yet he, like all Marine officers, had come up through the ranks and he would understand her feelings. Blake was her brother and it was her duty to try to recover him – or his body – if it was possible. He would do the same for her.

“Permission granted,” Captain Stalker said finally. “I’m diverting the remainder of your platoon to the spaceport, where they will pick up their armour before they meet up with you. Once you’re armoured up, you have my permission to investigate. And good luck.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jasmine said. “We won’t let you down.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

When held captive, according to the Articles of War, a captured soldier can only be asked for name, rank and serial number. It is well known, however, that most captors will ask more and back up their questions with proper interrogation measures, like torture. It is for such situations that Marines are trained to resist interrogation and, if it proves impossible to refuse information, to commit suicide at will
.

-Major-General Thomas Kratman (Ret), A Civilian’s Guide to the Terran Marine Corps

“So we found nothing?”

“No, sir,” Gwen said, solidly. “2
^nd
Platoon managed to follow a number of leads, but they all proved to be dead ends. The private eye we found” – Avalon might not have had a police department worthy of the name, but it did have a handful of private detectives – “suggested that most of the leads were intended to mislead us. The DNA traces found in the apartment could not be traced back to anyone in the database, apart from Blake himself, of course.”

Edward winced inwardly. Blake Coleman, the report had made quite clear, had been seduced and then drugged. The Marines had treatments that were meant to counteract most sedatives and interrogation drugs, but there were limits, if only to allow medics to sedate an injured Marine. Blake had apparently not realised what was happening to him until it had been far too late, for the apartment hadn't been shielded and an emergency call would have been picked up, if one had been made. He’d never live it down after he was recovered – if he was recovered. Edward hated admitting defeat, but at the moment, Blake Coleman was a needle inside a very large haystack.

“It had to be the Crackers,” he said. The Council’s tactics had shown a degree of desperation that was lacking from the abduction. It had clearly been carefully planned and prepared. Their plan, he was starting to suspect, might have survived even if Blake had proven a tougher customer than they’d expected. Perhaps they’d watched the Marines, picked the one most likely to fall for the charms of a lady of easy virtue, and laid their trap. “He could be well outside the city by now.”

“Unless that’s what we’re meant to think,” Gwen pointed out. “They could have hidden him somewhere within the city.”

“Yes,” Edward agreed, slowly. There was no way to know for sure. Searching the entire city would be a difficult task, even if the Civil Guard helped out and the Governor raised no objections. He wondered if it could be used as an excuse to get inside the Council’s different houses and peek around, but the Governor would never agree to that. Edward could sympathise with the man’s position, but only up to a point. “I take it that all of the Company has been summoned back to their deployment positions?”

“Yes, sir,” Gwen said, as if it had ever been in doubt. “1
^st
Platoon is at the spaceport, 2
^nd
Platoon is working on the search and the remainder are on Castle Rock, waiting for orders.”

“Good,” Edward said. “We’re going back to the Rock ourselves. Inform the officers that I am calling a full Council of War and invite the Civil Guard to send a pair of representatives. We cannot allow this challenge to pass unanswered.”

“Yes, sir,” Gwen said. She hesitated. “It is my duty to warn you that any hasty action we take may mean Coleman’s death.”

Edward nodded bitterly. The Empire – facing an endless series of insurrections on hundreds of different worlds – had evolved a code for dealing with hostage-takers. The hostage would be counted as dead, even if they’d kept him alive, and his abductors would face the death penalty when they were tracked down, after failing to use their captive to gain any advantage. The Company would pay no ransom, nor would they make any political concession, whatever else happened. The abductors could not be allowed to think that the tactic would work, even once.

And yet, Blake Coleman was one of his Company, one of the men under his command. He could not be abandoned, even on purely cold and pragmatic grounds, not when there were so few Marines on Avalon. They’d keep hunting for him until he was recovered, or until they located a body, but they couldn't allow his position to prevent them from taking any action. It was a precedent, Edward knew, that could not be set. The war on Avalon would only get worse if he allowed Blake’s fate to affect his actions. He kept telling himself that...and yet, somehow it didn't make it any easier. A clean death would have been easier to handle.

“I know,” he said. Gwen was just carrying out her duty. “We’ll do whatever we can to get him back.”

***

“Big bastard, isn't he?”

Gaby looked up at Doctor White, a pale-skinned man with reddish eyes. Unlike most of the other Crackers, Doctor White had been born in Camelot and graduated from the technical school, before discovering that Crackers were human too. He’d abandoned his position – and his massive debt, of course – to help one of the Crackers escape government custody and join them in their fight. He couldn't be allowed to fight directly – a trained doctor was too valuable to risk – but his services had proven invaluable over the years.

“Very big,” she agreed. Blake Coleman lay on the table, his hands and feet firmly chained down and a metal glove covering one of his hands. It looked like one of the dungeons the Wilhelm Family was reported to keep under their mansion, where they tortured any of their servants who displeased them, a comparison that galled her. If it had been possible to treat the Marine with any dignity, she would have done so. “Is that a natural growth?”

“I think so,” Doctor White said. “He’s not a saner version of Giant Non, not as far as I can tell. Giant was a genetic freak from the Undercity, but this guy is merely at the peak of physical development, probably among the top point-one percent of humanity. There may be some genetic improvements in there, yet I’m inclined to think that he’s a pureblood human who has been training heavily since he was a teenager.”

Gaby nodded. Giant Non had been an indent from Earth, a teenage boy with a massive oversized body – he had barely fitted into an apartment room – and the mind of a child. Despite his appearance, he had been gentle and kind to everyone and, unlike almost all of the other indents, had been well-liked by the farming population. No one knew how he’d ended up so large and yet so simple, although Doctor White had believed that he was the result of a genetic engineering program that had failed spectacularly. Giant had died four years ago and had been buried in a family plot, the highest honour that the farmers could bestow. He’d deserved it.

“He does have a number of implants within his body,” the Doctor continued. “There’s one in his spinal cord, another one down in his pelvis, two in his head and one in the tip of his finger. I think that that one is actually an implanted weapon and so I’ve gloved his hand to prevent him from using it. The others...I cannot even identify, let alone figure out how to remove. I suspect that they will be booby trapped to make it impossible to remove them while keeping the Marine alive.”

Julian looked up at him. “You don’t even know what they do?”

“I can offer you a few guesses, if you like,” Doctor White said, dryly. “The equipment I have here is not exactly the best that Avalon has on hand. The Empire’s medical tech is two to three generations ahead of anything Avalon can produce for itself. I cannot look inside the implants or figure out what they actually do with what I have on hand. I cannot even tell you if one of them is a communicator of some kind.”

Gaby frowned. “Are we sure that this building is safe?”

“We rigged it to block all signals,” Julian said, shortly. He’d led the team that had carried out the work. “If anything can get a signal out of here, it’s something as exotic as a neutrino generator and I think that even the Empire couldn't implant one of those in a human body. Anything else should be unable to get a signal out of here.”

“The weapons implant is an odd one,” Doctor White said. “I think it’s actually a nerve-burst implant, one that would cause instant death to anyone who was targeted at close range. The weapon itself is mounted in such a manner as to prevent any of the blast from striking the Marine himself, assuming that my theory is correct. I think we’re looking at one of the most dangerous men on Avalon.”

“Yeah,” Julian said, looking back down towards the Marine. Gaby wondered, in a flash of insight, if he felt his masculinity to be threatened. It wasn't as if he was a weakling, or a coward, but he wasn't anything like as strong as their captive. “He wasn't so dangerous that we couldn't capture him.”

“We caught him with his pants down,” Gaby reminded him. “I doubt that that trick will work on Marines in the field.”

She looked back at Doctor White. “Can you awaken him?”

“Of course,” the Doctor said. “Are you sure that you want to be in the same room as him?”

Gaby narrowed her eyes. There were times when she found the over-protectiveness of her so-called subordinates irritating. “Do you think that I wouldn't be safe?”

“There are several implants of unknown capabilities within his body,” Doctor White said. “We have no way of knowing what he could do. Escape is impossible...but what if he decides to blow himself up, along with the rest of us? It’s quite possible.”

Gaby dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand. “Wake him up, Doctor,” she ordered. “I will be here.”