Bones of Empire (33 page)

Keen's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “You're lying—but thank you.” Then he was gone.

Alamy wanted to sit and cry, but there wasn't enough time for that as someone tried the front door. She felt for Keen's pistol, found it, and wrestled the weapon free of the shoulder holster. She even had the presence of mind to take one of two extra magazines that dangled below the other arm. It was slippery with blood, and, with no pockets, Alamy stuck the clip into the waistband of her panties.

Cato had shown Alamy how to fire a pistol more than once, so she knew about the need to release the safety and pump a round into the chamber. That was as far as her thoughts took her before someone hit the door hard. Wood splintered, but the barrier held long enough for Alamy to bring the handgun up. She was holding the weapon with both hands, the way Cato said she should, when the door flew open and banged against the wall.

Alamy started to fire and kept firing, knowing that she wasn't a very good shot, so it would be a good idea to throw as much lead at the intruder as possible. And Alamy's strategy paid immediate dividends as the first assassin to enter the apartment took a slug in the chest and was thrown back against the man behind him. The second intruder stumbled and fired a burst of bullets into the ceiling before regaining his balance.

But death was already on the way as Alamy continued to pull on the pistol's trigger and the rhythmic
bang
,
bang
,
bang
it generated served to punctuate the momentary rattle of the automatic weapon. The second assassin jerked spastically as he took hits in the head, right shoulder, and arm. As he went down, Alamy's pistol
click
ed empty, and she felt a searing pain cut across the top of her shoulders.

The sniper! He or she was still out there. And firing a silenced weapon. Alamy dropped to the floor as
another
rifle bullet smacked into the wall to her right. Then, having scrabbled into Cato's bedroom, Alamy paused to eject the empty magazine and replace it with the one taken from her waistband.

She was scared at that point, but angry, too, and she surprised herself by yelling, “You want
more
? Come on, you bastards! Let's get it on.”

Alamy's wish was granted as shots were fired somewhere above her, the skylight over the hallway shattered, and a man dropped through the hole. His feet made a loud
thump
as they hit the floor.

Alamy, who was still sitting on the floor, shoved the gun around the corner and fired. The heavy slugs shattered the man's ankles. He uttered a surprised grunt, crashed to the floor, and was curled up in the fetal position when Alamy shot him in the head.

Then she was up and headed for the closet. Alamy knew that Cato kept a shotgun in there, and with only a few rounds left in the handgun, she was going to need another weapon.

There were scuffling sounds out in the hall—as if more assassins had entered the apartment. Alamy gave thanks as her fingers closed around the shotgun's barrel. She brought the weapon up, found the pistol-style grip, and thumbed the safety. Then, having aimed the shotgun at the back wall of the closet, she pulled the trigger.

Alamy wasn't ready for the heavy recoil and was thrown back against the half-opened door, but the result was everything she could have hoped for. The double-ought buckshot punched a fist-sized hole in the wall and hit targets in the hall. Two of them, judging from the noises they made.

But the battle wasn't over as Alamy backed her way out of the closet and two bullets came straight down from above. They missed her toes by an inch and buried themselves in the floor.

Alamy tilted the shotgun up, pumped another shell into the chamber, and fired. Plaster showered down on her, but the blast had the desired effect in that she heard hurried footsteps up above and knew an assailant was on the run.

That was when an air car glided past, bright lights strobed the apartment's interior, and Vord troopers opened fire. They didn't know who was shooting at whom and didn't care. Their sole motivation was to bring the battle to an end, which they did with brutal efficiency. It took them the better part of ten minutes to secure the area, land the air car, and enter the apartment's living room. That was where they found a half-naked Uman female sitting with her back against a wall. She was covered with blood, and the male on the floor next to her was clearly dead. “My name is CeCe Alamy,” she said, as her chin trembled. “And this man is an Imperial police officer named Valentine Keen. He died in the line of duty. Please treat him with the respect he deserves.”

The temporary command center was located just north of Lake Boro in an old hunting lodge. Dozens of beady-eyed trophies stared down at Cato, Shani, Umji, and five of his NCOs as the police officers bent to examine the map spread out on top of the massive dining table. “Parakar's body was found right about here,” Cato said as he tapped a road with his right index finger. “And his clothes were wet. Yet he wasn't dressed for a swim. And, given the burns on his body, there's a very real possibility that he was tortured before being put to death.”

“So,” Shani said as she picked up the narrative, “maybe he was on the run. Perhaps he was tortured, managed to escape from his captors, and jumped in the lake in order to get away. Then, having emerged on the west side, he made his way to the highway, where he was recaptured.”

“Exactly,” Cato agreed. “So if our suspects have a hideout in the area, it could be located somewhere along the opposite shore. We're going to put a cordon around the entire area before we knock on doors. No one is to enter or leave without being cleared by Officer Shani or me. Are there any comments or questions?”

“Yes,” Umji put in. “Parakar was posing as a member of the Rahati cult and providing us with regular reports about that group's activities. Now, having reread those documents, it seems clear that Demeni took control of the cult at some point prior to Verafti's arrival. So as we enter the search area, we might have to deal with an unknown number of Uman fanatics as well as the shape shifters themselves. That could pose an additional danger.”

Umji had come a long way since Cato and the rest of the team first met him. In fact, there were indications that Umji liked and respected the Umans to some extent, even if his Ya didn't feel the same way. And Cato knew that the Vord noncoms standing around the table didn't agree with Umji. The possibility that they might have to contend with “fanatical” Umans fed the resentment they felt. But there wasn't anything he could do about it. “Officer Umji makes a very good point,” Cato emphasized. “So pass the word to your subordinates.

“Okay, I think that's about it. Let's load the air cars, go in, and secure the area. The ground sweep will begin at 0500 hours. Good hunting.”

Six military-style air cars were waiting behind the lodge. Cato, Shani, and Umji boarded the first vehicle, which carried four troopers as well. Each unit was headed for a preassigned landing point, and the air cars took off in quick succession. The homes along the east side of the lake were separated by swathes of thick vegetation. Hundreds of troops would have been required to seal the area off completely. And given constant attacks by the Uman resistance movement, there simply weren't enough Vords to do the job.

But by blocking all of the roads in and out, and using the air cars to monitor the jungle from above, Cato hoped to flush the Sagathies out of hiding and run them down. Then, once the fugitives were spotted, air cars would swoop in to contain them as ground forces rushed into the area. The rest would be up to the shape shifters themselves. They could surrender or die. The second option was preferable insofar as Cato was concerned.

The air cars were open to the elements, so as they rose to treetop level and sped south, Cato could feel the warm slipstream caressing his face. Like Shani, he was wearing a half helmet, body armor, and combat boots. In addition to his pistol, he was carrying a stunner, submachine gun, and a variety of grenades. And the Vords were heavily armed as well. But, if they were lucky enough to surround the Sagathies, would all of their weaponry be enough against such violent predators?

The question continued to haunt the back of Cato's mind as the aircraft slowed and all forward motion stopped. It was pitch-black below except for the moonlike glow projected by the solar reflector high above and a few isolated security lights mounted on the houses themselves. But Cato knew they were just east of Lake Boro and directly above the paved road that served the houses on that side of the lake.

An effort had been made to check on each owner. But if one of the homes belonged to Demeni or her Rahaties, it was through someone else. So with no way to narrow the field, the police had no choice but to check each residence. An unpleasant chore for both them and the homeowners who were about to be traumatized.

There was a gentle
thump
as the car landed, followed by terse orders from Umji. His troopers piled out as a thrumming noise was heard, and the rest of the air cars passed overhead on their way to various insertion points. “Okay,” Cato said, as his boots hit the ground. “The first house should be a hundred yards to the southwest. Stay alert and stick to the plan. Execute. Over.”

Thanks to an effort to bridge Uman and Vord com systems, each member of the team could hear Cato, and vice versa, even though their HUDs weren't linked. That would have required additional prep time. The troopers wore sculpted helmets, high collars that were designed to protect their Ya advisors, and clamshell-style body armor.

Cato didn't
like
the aliens, with the possible exception of Umji, but he couldn't help but respect them as they fanned out and began to close with a largely unseen target. The intervals between the Vords were correct, they were relatively quiet given their size, and there was no unnecessary radio traffic.

A security light could be glimpsed from time to time and seemed to switch on and off as the team advanced through a grove of trees.
If
the Sagathies were holed up in the house, and
if
they were asleep, there was a pretty good chance of catching them by surprise. Or, failing that, flushing them out. Which would open the fugitives to an attack from above.

As the team ghosted its way forward, Cato saw little blobs of body heat scurry away via the night-vision capability built into his HUD and “felt” spikes of fear. But none of the animals were large enough to represent a threat.

Then the fuzzy outline of a still-cooling house appeared. It was a two-story affair that had a peaked roof and a porch, which ran all the way around. Two ground cars were parked outside, and Umji made sure that both of them were secured before sending two troopers around to seal off the lakeside of the residence.

Once that was accomplished, Cato raised a megaphone borrowed from the Vords. “This house is surrounded by police officers representing both the Vord occupying forces and the Uman Empire. Please exit through the front door with your hands on your heads. If you own this property, and are not harboring any criminals, you have nothing to fear.”

It was necessary to repeat the message two times before a light came on in an upstairs window, the silhouette of a man was seen, and more lights appeared. Finally, after five minutes or so, the front door swung open, and two people emerged with hands on their heads. As soon as the couple were out on the porch, Shani led two troopers inside. Thanks to her ability to “feel” emotions, and thereby detect the presence of any sentients hidden within, the search went fairly quickly.

Meanwhile, Cato was able to confirm that neither the middle-aged man nor his wife was a Sagathi and was soon hard at work trying to placate them. He was still at it when Shani and her Vord troopers left the house. “You can go back inside now,” Cato said soothingly. “But please don't call anyone until 0700 hours. If you do, we'll know and arrest you for interfering with a police investigation.”

The man did what he could to look dignified in his pajamas. “If you insist . . . But please be aware that I intend to call police headquarters at seven o'clock and file a complaint with your supervisor.”

“He's on Corin,” Cato replied, “but go right ahead. In the meantime, lock all of your doors and call this number if anyone tries to break in. We can be here within a matter of minutes.”

The homeowner accepted the slip of paper, looked as if he wanted to say something else, but apparently thought better of it as his wife pulled at his arm. She looked worried. Whether her concern stemmed from the presence of Vord troopers or the possibility that dangerous criminals might be lurking nearby wasn't clear. “Come on, Jorn . . . Let's go back inside.”

“One down and four to go,” Cato commented, as the couple reentered their home. “Let's move it.”

Though separated, the houses weren't far enough apart to justify use of the air car, so it circled above as the team jogged down the road and turned into the next driveway. Then it was time to repeat the procedure, except, having received no response from repeated requests to come out, the police officers were forced to break in.

A Vord trooper kicked the front door down, and Cato went in with his submachine gun at the ready. It was his belief that officers should lead from the front. But more than that, Cato knew that if someone was hiding within, he might be able to detect them
before
they could attack. And even a second or two could make an important difference.

But as the law officers searched the house, there were no emotional emanations to detect, and having come up empty, it was time to move on. A preprinted note was left on the door inviting the homeowners to contact the police regarding the forced entry, and, with the air car circling overhead, the team jogged toward the next house on the list.